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#more like mutual punching bags
cherubunie · 2 months
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fucked silly ~ bff satoru gojo x inexperienced reader ౨ৎ ♡
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satoru is your best friend, and he has been since the first grade. he's never trusted anybody the way he trusts you, apart from get of course. its also abundantly clear that you have the biggest crush on him, its written all over your face; especially when he takes you out somewhere expensive, whenever he compliments you, and especially when he teases you. in true gojo fashion, he want's to tease you until you're bursting out of your seams with pent up frustration, he can't help it when his cock hardens whenever you make that cute pouty face at him whenever he does so! , and today is his lucky day, when he teases you just enough for you to finally come undone. word count: 7000 (whoops) inexperienced! sub! reader x Dom! Gojo. Lots of sweet talking, praise, orgasm control, oral sex, gentle choking, very soft corruption. gagging very very gentle sex. beginning of a relationship tehe. mutual love, confessions.
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"gojoooo, my feet are starting to hurt" your face flushes for the nth time as the man behind you pushes you into yet another clothing store. the two of you had been walking for 3 and a half hours around the local Shibuya shopping center since 12 pm. Gojo insisted the two of you go shopping as your birthday was next week, but he couldn't join you on the day because he was busy. so, to make it up to you he decided to take you on an unlimited shopping spree. 
"but we haven't gone in here yetttt, come on there are so many cute things in here" the white headed man squeals as he pushes you at lightning speed, almost causing you to trip over yourself one too many times. 
As you walk into the store, your eyes widen at all the cute articles of clothing the shop carries. you instantly throw all your bags full of other clothes and jewelry right into gojo's arms and he happily stumbles to grab them out of your hands with an amused chuckle, readjusting his blindfold. Suddenly, the pain in your feet disappears when you run around the store, looking at everything they have. 
After shopping around the store for another hour, your eyes land on a gorgeous pastel blue dress with white lace tracing the hem. you turn around, eyes landing on gojo who's walking around in the mens section of the store. 
suddenly, a sneaky idea pops into your head and before you can even second guess yourself, you grab the dress off the hanger and hide it in the pile of clothing you had already picked out around the store and walk towards satoru. 
"you ready?" he senses you before you even say anything, turning around so his body faces yours. with a cheeky smile on your face, you grab his arm and pull him towards the check out area without saying a word. 
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"You are one expensive girl, you know that?" his legs spread apart slightly in the back of the bmw his private export is driving the two of you in. you feel your face heat up at his action and quickly punch his arm with a scowl.
"and you're the one who puts up with this expensive girl, you know that?" your snarky reply causes satoru to laugh, throwing one of your many plushies right into your face.
As you arrive back at your apartment, gojo directs the driver to pull into a parking spot and wait for him to return. Just like the man he is, gojo is whining the entire way to your apartment, complaining about how heavy all your bags are. 
"oh shut up, I know you can carry so much more than that so stop complaining" you jokingly snap at him, resulting in a whine coming from behind you. You grab your keys from your purse and unlock your door, setting your purse on its designated hook and walking into your humble abode. Gojo walks into your room and sets all your newly bought items on the bed, you following in his footsteps. 
"its around 5:30 now, what time did you say the reservation is at?" you ask the white headed man and walk towards your closet, looking at all the clothing you have yet to wear from your last shopping trip. 
"I set the reservation time to 8, but if you need more time to get ready I can call them and have a time change arranged" he says, turning around to face you. You hum to yourself, debating on if that's enough time to do the makeup and hair styles you want to do. 
"That should be enough time, that gives me 2 hours to get ready." you turn around to speak to him directly. 
"okay, I'll be back in a couple hours, dress nicely, I'm taking you to the best restaurant in Shibuya for my best girl" his flirting sends a dagger straight to your heart, not knowing he was being 100% serious. 
"get out of here, you're taking up my precious time" You spin him around and push him towards your front door, ushering the man out of your apartment. 
"UH, as if im not worth your time, why do you heart me so, y/n?" you roll your eyes at him for the millionth time today and push him out the door, locking it behind him. 
it takes you a second to regain yourself,,, especially after spending half the day with this stress case. before you're running into the bathroom to take a shower, shaving every nook and cranny of your body. 
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Your makeup and hair take up most of the time you have, giving you only 15 minutes to get dressed and put on your perfume. You dig through all your freshly bought clothing before yanking out the beautiful blue and white dress. You set it on your bed, looking at it. You even have an internal debate with yourself on if you should even wear it or not. 
he doesn't see me like that, there is no point in trying to impress him. 
You begin to overthink, your mind racing a million miles per minute. The two of you have gone out to fancy restaurants together before, so how is this time any different? Suddenly, gojo's words ring through your head, reminding you that he told you to dress nicely. The dress is on you in an instant, hugging you in all the right places. Your curves are more prominent and your boobs sit so nicely. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, noticing how good the dress makes you look. the blue makes your face pop and your eyes shine, confidence radiates off of you like there is no tomorrow. 
Just as you are about to grab your shoes, you hear a knock at your bedroom door. You roll your eyes with a smile on your face before opening it. Satoru stands in the doorway, a smile on his face and a dozen of your favorite flowers in his hands. 
"thought I would let myself-" he cuts his sentence short. You tilt your head in wonder as the tall man in front of you raises his free hand from his pocket to grab the top of his blindfold, pulling it downwards so he can get a good look at you. 
His eyes trail up and down your body slowly, making your thighs clamp together and blush rise to your face.. and satoru notices your actions, but decides not to comment on it.
"give me a spin" a smile creeps onto his face as he brings his index finger into the air, signaling you to spin. You giggle to yourself before spinning around slowly, making sure gojo gets a good look at you. Your eyes lock onto his, and you can't help but smile up at him before shaking your head, another laugh forces its way out of your throat. 
"stop staring at me satoru, we're gonna be late" you walk towards him, grabbing the flowers out of his hands and walk past him and into the kitchen, placing the pretty flowers onto your kitchen table. you make a mental note to yourself to put them into water before you go to bed tonight. All gojo can do is clear his throat and brush a hand through his hair, trying not to mess it up too much before pulling his blindfold back over his eyes. 
suddenly, a realization hits him-
"hey wait, I don't remember buying that for you"
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The restaurant is beautiful, it's one neither of you have gone to before. there is a big fish tank that compliments the side of the wall as you walk in. the lighting isn't too bright, which is nice since you don't normally like any sort of overhead lighting. The tables in the place are very nicely placed, and there are more private areas in some of the corners of the restaurant as well. Gojo does all the talking for the both of you as you look around at the place in awe. The smell in the building is phenomenal and your mouth waters at the sight of a waiter bringing out someone's dish. 
The hostess takes the two of you into one of the mentioned private corners, placing two menus onto the table before turning her body to gojo to talk to him. 
"im sorry, I'm aware this is very unprofessional of me but.. are you satoru gojo?" she asks and your ears perk up with interest. Gojo doesn't turn his head to face her as she speaks and answers the woman with a blunt
"yes I am" leaving no room for much small talk, but that doesn't seem to shake the hostess very much. 
"oh my god, I just wanna say you're so handsome... blah blah blah" you then decide to tune the two of them out, not wanting to accidentally upset yourself. You can tell by the way gojo moves that he's enjoying the attention, but isn't flirting back, which isn't really like him, but you don't complain. 
a minute goes by of the hostess rambling before gojo shuts down the conversation by asking for the waiter, leaving the hostess to shut her trap in embarrassment before walking off to grab the waiter, her cheeks red. Your ears turn back on as she walks away. 
"done flirting?" you ask, only half joking. He looks at you with a smirk before he responds, taking the fork out of the napkin and plays with it. 
"jealous?" you don't respond to him, all you do is roll your eyes and look down at the table. 
"don't be." it takes you a second to register the man's words before your head shoots up, your eyes widening in question. 
"what does that mean?" gojo laughs at your reaction and shrugs. truth be told, he's known of your little crush on him for a while now, and to say that he's flattered is an understatement. In true gojo fashion, he's been playing with you. not with your feelings, of course not! he cares way too much about you and would rather die than to hurt you in any way possible,,,, except when you're writhing underneath him as you scream his name. he's been letting the pent up frustration you have build over time until you're just about ready to burst. 
He wants you to be the one to confess first. 
"I'm just telling you that there is no need to be jealous!" his voice sounding hurt and his arms dramatically fall onto the table
"do you not trust me? im offended.. and I thought we were friends!" gojo over exaggeratedly look away from you, crossing his arms over his chest, causing you to laugh out loud, covering your mouth in the process. 
"oh stop it, we are! I was just wondering" you bring your hands out and reach over the table, grabbing one of gojo's arms and pulling it down, trying to stop him from making a scene. 
A little while later, the food the two of you had ordered is halfway gone and you're both talking each other's ear off. A comfortable silence clouds the table as you both stare at each other.. kind of, your head in your palms. Gojo doesn't want to ruin the comfortable atmosphere the two of you have created, but he has to tell you.
"y/n, I have to tell you something" his words instantly make your stomach drop and your palms sweat, your head tilts, signaling him to continue. 
"I'm leaving for a couple months on a mission, so I wont be able to see or talk to you for a little while" your smile falters and your palms move from your face to your lap. You look down, thinking of your next words to say. You understood that his job as a sorcerer was dangerous, which causes him to disappear for a long amounts of time, but with your growing feelings, it gets more and more difficult not being able to see him when he has to leave. 
"when will you be back?" your voice is small when you speak, signaling that you're somewhat upset. Gojo crosses his arms across his chest and leans back, getting more comfortable before breaking the news to you.
"this mission could last up to six months at the most, I leave in four days" the more you spend less and less time together the stronger he gets. you feel selfish for even thinking it, but you wish that he could spend more time with you instead of having to go out and exercising cursed spirits and saving people. of course you don't want him to quit saving people, but you just wish you could see him more than a couple times every 3-4 months. 
"just come back safe, that's all I care about" you say, looking back up with a smile, trying your best not to seem upset. an awkward silence looms over the table. 
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"im fulllll I can't eat anything else ugh, we're gonna have to come back here some time" you say, trying to push aside the tense atmosphere. gojo completely ignores your sentence
"your dress, I got that for you today, right?" he says, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. You look down at your article of clothing as he mentions it. 
"yeah, you did! I thought it was a pretty color, so I just threw it in with everything else I got" you run your hands over the fabric of the dress, you look back up at the man across the table. 
"it is a very beautiful dress, but" his sentence is cut short. you tilt your head to the side in question as he grabs his glass of water, drawing it to his mouth. 
"hm?" you question in a hum. Before he can take a sip, he speaks. his words shifting the atmosphere in the entire building. 
"it would look better off of you" he says, proceeding to take a sip of his drink. all air was sucked from your lungs and your face instantly changes color into the deepest shade of red. your wide eyes stare at the man in front of you. up until now, he has never flirted with you, let alone anything remotely dirty, and his words have your thighs rubbing against each other within less than a second. 
there is absolutely no way he just said that to me
"stop messing with me," you tell him, completely trying to ignore what he just said to you, looking away from him, trying to focus on something else- anything else. 
"how much did everything come to anyways, I feel kind of bad for getting so much" you question, trying to get onto a different topic. 
"who says I was messing with you.. and as if I would tell you that. it wasn't even that much. even if it was, the price would be worth it" he finishes his drink, his voice making your head spin. 
after gojo pays the bill, the two of you head out of the restaurant, taking his private escort back to your apartment. the car ride consisted of the two of you singing karaoke at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down. a few passer-bys saw you two going crazy singing TGIF by Katy Perry. 
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after arriving back at your apartment, gojo decides to walk you inside, grabbing your purse from out of your hands and unlocking the door for you. You step inside the apartment, taking your shoes off and kicking them by the front door. 
"god, today was so much fun, thank you for taking me out satoru" you stretch your arms above your head, popping your back. the sound of the front door closes. turning around, you notice gojo's hands are in his pockets. he shrugs at you, a small smile adoring his face. 
"anything for you" the silence is awkward again, the clock ticking a quarter passed 10. you play with the hem of your short dress, attempting to think of something to say. 
"I should probably head out, i'm pretty busy these next few days so.." his sentence trails off. you nod your head in response, still not able to come up with anything to say to him. 
Gojo takes his hands out of his pockets, throwing you the most adorable peace sign, his smile growing bigger. 
"i'll try and stop by before I leave okay?I'll see you later, y/n" his hand wraps around the knob, and the sound of the creaky door snaps you out of your haze. just as he's about to close the door behind him on his way out, you call out to him.
"toru!!" you speed walk to the front door, grabbing the frame and push it open so you can see him. 
"hm?" he turns around, facing you fully, all ears on you. 
"I have something I need to tell you" you look down towards the floor, too embarrassed to say it directly to him. 
satoru knows what's coming, he can feel it. his heart skips a beat as his cock starts to twitch slightly. even though he can't actually see it, your face looks so innocent and nervous, he almost feels bad for making you confess first. he knows how shy you get when it comes to feelings or anything that involves sexual activities. and he lives off of teasing you. seeing how red your face gets whenever his body is too close to yours or how you shy away from him whenever he compliments you. it never fails to make his dick hard whenever you get so shy. 
gojo grips the top of the door frame, leaning onto the side of it. you can't seem to get your thoughts to form a coherent sentence, so you say the first thing that comes to mind.
"I really like you satoru.." your voice is so silent, you could barely hear it your self. of course gojo heard you, but he teases you anyways. 
"I like you to y/n" your frustrated huff almost makes him bust out laughing, you're too adorable. Your hands form fists as you shake your head from side to side. 
"no, that's not what I mean." 
"oh? how did you mean it then?" his voice is mesmerizing and it feels like you're going to explode trying to tell him how you feel. 
"god this is so stupid. gojo I love-" your sentence is harshly cut short as the freakishly tall man bends down and cups the back of your head, forcing your lips to collide. you gasp into his mouth before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. with his free hand, he softly grips your waist, pushing you back into the apartment, slamming the door closed with one of his feet. 
Gojo moves his hand from your waist, pressing it against the wall behind you before gently pressing you into it. your hands find their way into his hair, tugging gently. Satoru groans into your mouth at your action, pressing his body into yours. Your face feels hot and your clit begins to throb as you feel every part of his body against your own. Satoru moves his hands to your waist, making you grind your hips into him. You sigh into him, but all of a sudden your mind starts to go into overdrive as you pull your lips away from his.
Gojo takes this opportunity to move his face to your neck, kissing down sweetly at your skin. His lips feel so soft and warm, but you instantly let out a partially loud yelp when starts to suck on the spot behind your ear. Your eyes close on instinct, your hands remaining tangled in his white hair. 
You feel his hands slide from your waist, down to your thighs and all of a sudden everything seems overstimulating and fast. 
"wait wait wait-" your voice laced with heavy breaths. Satoru instantly detaches from your neck, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek in worry.
"what's wrong love? did I hurt you?" his concern makes you smile softly. You trail your hands down to hold his face, reassuring him that you're okay. 
"I've never- I mean I haven't experienced, or had... I feel so dumb" you sigh in-between sentences, embarrassment laced in your tone of voice. one of your hands comes down to play with the tie of the suit he's wearing, fidgeting with the cloth. Gojo chuckles under his breath, biting his bottom lip slightly. 
"I know baby. Do you want me to go slow?" His words make you lightheaded. 
"if that's okay, i've never done anything with anyone so I don't really know what i'm doing.." you whisper the last bit of your sentence, looking at his face. He smiles at you, grabbing your hands and kissing your fingertips. 
"come here" he says, lifting you into the air like a princess, one arm under your knees, the other behind your back all in one swift, quick motion. You squeal in surprise, your arms wrapping around his neck. 
"toru what about the carrrr" you kick your legs in his hold, giving his cheek and jaw light kisses
"I waved him off before I got out of the car, don't worry about it hun" he turns his head, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before pushing your bedroom door open with his foot. Gojo gently sets your body down on the bed, crawling over you, both of his hands planted on the sides of your body. You giggle again, reaching your hands out to wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
"you're so beautiful" he whispers right before his lips meet yours, soft and warm. your fingers find their way to his hair, gently playing with his locks as he presses his body into yours. his tongue finds its way into your mouth, exploring it. you sigh deeply into him as he presses his body against yours, slowly grinding his hips into your core. your sigh turns into a hushed moan as the grip in his hair turns into pulling. 
His tongue leaves your mouth as he looks at you with a sly smirk. his face moves down towards your neck, leaving sweet kisses along your jaw and neck. one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, caressing it with his thumb before trailing his lips down in-between your collar bones. with every gentle kiss, your breathing gets heavier and heavier. 
Satoru reaches the top of your dress after kissing every nook and cranny of your neck and collar bones. He sits up and your hands fall to your sides while his warm palm leaves your cheek. He smiles down at you. 
One of his hands comes down to your thigh, sliding up and under your dress slowly to meet the hem of your underwear. you sniffle a whine with the back of your palm. 
"let me hear you baby" he says, his thumb finding your clit through your damp underwear, tracing tender circles. you move your hand away from your mouth to cover one of your eyes, obeying his words. His thumb presses down a little harder, giving you the friction you need. With every circle he traces, the louder your whines get. He takes your growing whines and removes his thumb from your clothed clit. 
You sit up on your forearms, trying to see what his next move is. He uses both of his hands to grab your panties, looking up at you before removing them. 
"is this okay?" he questions, pulling them down just a hair. your mouth doesn't move, so your head nods up and down for an answer. He pulls your underwear down and below your ankles, taking them completely off and tossing them to the ground next to your bed. then, he hovers back over you, using one of his forearms as leverage to hold himself up right above you, the other hand tracing up your thigh once more before finding your bare pussy. 
Two of his fingers resume massaging your clit, this time with more force. You moan louder this time, looking directly at gojo, wishing you could look into his eyes. 
As if he read your mind, he leans his head down slightly so that he can slide his blindfold up and over his head with the arm that's holding him up, slipping off his blindfold, revealing his crystal blue eyes that stare into yours deeply. 
"wanna see your pretty face" he says and just like that, his long fingers slide into you, curling up and hitting your sweet spot instantly. Your back slightly arches off the bed and your hands fly to his back, nails digging crescent moon shapes into his skin through his suit. 
"oh my god toru" his fingers gently pump in and out of you, curling up to touch your g-spot over and over again. you shut your eyes, pulling him closer to you.
"yeah? you're so adorable, can't wait until you're screamin' underneath me" 
he watches your face contort into one of pleasure with a smile gracing his. his fingers work faster inside you, the only sounds being heard were your moans and the wet noises coming from your pussy, and gojo loves it. He loves hearing all the pretty noises you make just by fucking you with his fingers. One particular press down onto your sweet spot has you much louder than you already were, and he can instantly tell it was your orgasm approaching. 
he kisses your forehead and takes his fingers out of you. before you can protest, he's forcing your body to sit up straight. the sudden change from being gentle to somewhat forceful has you turned on even more. He moves your body to partially sit on his lap, his hands finding the zipper on the back of your dress and pulls it down, unhooking your bra right afterwards. 
You help him take off your dress and bra by reaching your arms above your head. He slips it off with ease and tosses it onto the floor next to your forgotten panties. His lips are on yours in a heartbeat, his pace quickening in the most tender way possible. His hand finds its way to the back of your head, lowering your body back down on the bed and breaking the kiss before you can fully lay down. He takes in the sight of you bare. As he's staring at you, he loosens his tie and takes off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his dress shirt. 
After he partially undresses himself, he grabs one of your knees and pulls it away from the other, lowering himself directly in your center. He comes down for another kiss, this one hungrier than the last. You reach for him, putting your hands inside his halfway undone shirt and wrapping them around his back, feeling his muscles under your fingers. He grinds his growing bulge into you, a moan erupts within the back of your throat. The hand that rests on your knee moves quickly towards your waist, forcing you to grind on him the way he's doing you. A small wet patch forms on his pants the more your bodies grind together. Satoru bites your bottom lip softly before breaking the kiss, only to start lowering his head down to your chest, never breaking eye contact with you, his hair covering a little of his face. 
He opens his mouth and licks one of your perky nipples. He does this a few times before wrapping his lips around it, sucking the bud in-between his teeth. Your moan sends shivers down his back, only fueling him to suck a little harder. His hand on your waist comes to fondle your other breast, pinching and massaging your other sensitive nipple. You throw your head back as your nails dig into his skin, sliding up into his hair and tugging on it rather hard. The action causes satoru to groan, shaking his head back and forth slightly with a cunning smile. The man above you then lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, moving in-between your breasts and trailing wet kisses down your sternum and passed your belly and abdomen before he stops right in front of your clit. 
His hand on your boob retakes its place on your knee, pushing it down on the bed so you can't close your legs together. 
He looks into your eyes, and without having to say anything, as if you read his mind, you nod your head quicker than you can even think. giving him the answer he needs. With your silent words, he presses a chaste kiss on your clit before darting his tongue out and licking a stripe up your already wet pussy, your bundle of nerves pulsating. 
His lips wrap around your clit, beginning to suck, eating you out. Your head feels light as his mouth works wonders on you. you instinctively tug his hair, slightly grinding your core onto his face. Your moans of delight have him groaning the vibrations ringing throughout your entire body. 
He laps at you as if you were the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, his hand on your knee moving to slide two of his long fingers inside your hole, curing them upwards to that familiar spot that has your back arching off the mattress and right into him. Even though you aren't looking at him, his blue eyes don't falter from watching all the pretty faces you make while he gently tears you apart. his fingers pumping in and out of you, caressing your sweet spot over and over while he eats you out.
Your walls squeeze his fingers. it's to be expected really, since you've never been touched before. but gojo is still pretty shocked with how tight your pussy is, and it's making him so much more obsessed with you. 
"fuck, you're so tight, how on earth are you going to take my cock if you can barely take my fingers, hmm?" he doesn't even move his mouth away from you, his breath fanning your heat.
"oh fuck, please-" your jaw slacks open and your eyes squeeze closed. Gojo creeps back over you, his thumb coming to rub on your clit. Your pussy is beginning to sound wetter, and your hole tightens even more around his fingers. 
"look at me sweetheart" your eyes have never flown open so fast in your life, immediately looking straight into gojo's. A sly smile grows as he looks at you. 
"you about to cum? You're squeezin' me so tight" his sentence ends in a chuckle. you nod your head in response, but that doesn't cut it for the white haired man above you. 
"words love, wanna hear you say it" 
"yes toru, im so close please let me cum please please please" your high pitched whines while you speak make him just about bust in his pants, but he keeps his cool. 
"hold it." you shake your head at his command, trying to hold in your fast-approaching orgasm. your palms trail towards his back once more, digging your nails into his skin as leverage to keep you grounded, as if you were going to float away. his fingers are ruthless, your wetness coming to leak down your ass cheeks and beginning to pool onto your bedding below you. 
an overstimulating feeling comes rushing over you, and it feels like you're going to spill over
"please let me cum I can't- hold it, I need to please toru ple- please" your hiccuped moans become louder.
"you can cum now baby, let me hear you" with his words, you tip over that edge and his fingers make one last thrust inside you, massaging your g-spot over and over as you cum. your juices squirt all over his hand and down into the mattress below you, your knees attempt to close around his body as you finish with a particularly loud whine. 
"good girl, you did such a good job for me" you take a minute to calm down, holding his body close to yours as you finish around his long fingers, it's almost like he's trying to rip you in half. his fingers slide out of your dripping hole as he wipes his fingers on his nice dress pants before cupping the back of your head, coming down to have his lips meet yours. 
The kiss is hungry; desperate as he sits up, you follow after him trying not to break the kiss. your hands move to work on the remaining buttons on his shirt, fumbling with the fabric. Gojo's hands come down to work on his belt, unfastening it quickly. you finish unbuttoning the last button and slide his shirt off of him as he takes his belt off, the both of you throwing the articles of clothing elsewhere in the room. you break the kiss as he goes to stand up off the bed, unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, only leaving his boxers. you come up and loop your fingers under the last article of clothing he has on, looking straight up into his eyes. You wait a second before pulling them down, his hard cock coming up to slap his abdomen. your mouth dries at the sight of it. 
He really wasn't joking when he asked how you were going to take his cock huh?
Gojo looks down at you as you lean back, so he takes this opportunity and leans down, planting both his hands on the bed and stares at you. he slowly creeps towards you on his hands and knees, your back hitting the bed frame as he towers over you. 
"come here" he says, grabbing your thigh and pulls you to lay down on the bed underneath him. gasping at his action, you look up at him, noticing how much taller he is than you, taking in how big his hands are as they wrap around your thigh. 
Gojo then moves his hand to his cock, gripping it in one hand and pumping it a couple times. He looks into your eyes as he does so, taking in your appearance. Your hair is slightly messy and tangled, your eyes looking at his full of love and admiration, his eyes telling the same. 
"toru?" his name twirling off your tongue
"yes pretty girl?" he puts the head of his cock up to your pussy, dragging it across your slit as he coats it in your wetness. Your face heats up in a pretty pink. your eyes locked onto one another as you finally let out the words you've been meaning to for the past couple years
"I love you" your hands are on his shoulders as he pushes his tip into you, hissing as he stretches your hole and stills.
"I love you too beautiful" you feel like your heart is going to burst at his words, pulling his body down into yours, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Gojo starts to push inside you slowly, more painful hissing coming from you is the only thing being heard. 
"deep breaths baby, doing such a good job for me" you grip onto him tightly as he pushes the remainder of his dick inside of you, his hips on yours. his free hand finds your waist as he keeps you in place. your breathing is heavy, but he decides not to move his his yet, waiting for you to get used to the stretch. a couple minutes go by as the pain subsides and your hips start to move against his
"toru.. please" he takes your words and starts grinding into you slowly, letting you adjust a little more before moving his hips, taking his dick out of you slowly. he turns his head and looks into your eyes and kisses your nose, cheeks, and then your lips. suddenly, he thrusts back into you, fast, bottoming out inside you as your shriek of pleasure goes straight into his mouth. 
chuckling, he begins to thrust his cock in and out of you at a medium pace, keeping a steady rhythm as he fucks himself into you. 
"fuck you're so tight" you whimper at his words, his thrust never faltering as your arms and pussy squeeze him tightly. you move your head to the side, giving him the opportunity to suck deep, purple bruises into your neck and collar bones. Your breasts jiggle with every thrust. one of your hands comes down from his back to the side of your head to grip the sheets next to you. Gojo sees this action and decides to move his hand from your waist to interlock his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he fucks you into the mattress. 
his hand swallows yours as he grips it. 
one thrust in particular has you screaming, crushing his hand as you throw your head back, your mouth open as you moan his name over and over again. a chant that is music to satoru's ears as he moans into your neck. 
"so much, feels so good please toru' don't stop" you choke out, moaning louder and louder. 
"Yeah? tell me all about it sweet girl" satoru praises you, edging you to continue
"so big, m' so full, it's so much oh my god" your back arches off the bed as you continue to moan. satoru lowers his face to your ear and bites your lobe, breathing heavy and letting out husky, low groans that have your pussy getting wetter. 
Your legs start to shake, opening wider for him to thrust deeper inside of you, and it works, his cock brushes your sweet spot in the most delicious way, and it has you screaming, writhing underneath him. 
Your walls squeeze him impossibly tighter, if that's even possible, resulting in louder moans erupting from the back of his throat and directly into your ear. he lets go of your hand and out of nowhere, his blindfold appears in his hand as he stuffs it in your mouth, muffling your sobs and cries. 
"don't want anybody to hear how much of a dirty girl you are, do you, takin' my cock so prettily?" he taunts, your eyes meet his as you cup his cheek, feeling his skin under your fingertips. his palm comes down to the base of your neck, wrapping around your throat ever so lightly, barely even choking you. 
satoru's hips snap against yours rhythmically, but he can barely control himself before he grips the headboard above you, fucking you deeper and your eyes squeeze shut as your whole body starts to shake and your arms are wrapping around his waist. 
You start to nod your head, the words “yes" and "please" being heard through your makeshift gag. gojo feels you flutter around his cock and he himself has been holding back his orgasm so the two of you can finish together. He looks down at you, making eye contact as he speaks. 
"you gonna cum sweetheart?" you nod your head, your eyes begging for release. 
"cum baby, you can do it, i'm right here I got you." your nails dig into his back, scratching his skin over and over again. you close your eyes and turn your head. Gojo's hand comes down to cup your face, turning your head to face him.
"look at me baby, cum with me, such a good girl huh?" your eyes meet his as you flutter around his length, creaming all over his cock as he thrusts into one last time, shooting warm ropes of cum into you so very deeply. 
"fuck, feel's so good " he throws his head back with a loud groan only for a second, then he's hovering back over you, taking the blindfold out of your mouth. he's quick to press his lips onto yours, kissing you so softly compared to earlier. he kisses you a couple more times before painting your entire face in kisses that are so light and gentle, it makes you wonder if this is the same man who was just fucking you into the mattress and forcing his blindfold down your throat. 
you giggle at his actions as he pulls his softening dick out of you. he grabs your thigh and spreads your legs, watching his cum spill out of you. 
"fuck, you're unbelievable y/n" he praises you again, a smile growing on his lips, his eyes filled with admiration. 
"I'll be right back love, don't move" he says suddenly, getting up off the bed and running into the other parts of the house, his butt jiggling as he runs and you can't help but laugh. He walks back into the room with a damp washcloth, a glass of water and a towel. You pout as he hands you the glass of water and starts to clean you up, making sure all the wetness and cum is cleaned up off of you before drying you off. 
After he's finished, he ushers you up, taking the first and second blanket off your bed and throwing them into the corner of the room to be washed later, going into your closet and pulling out two blankets. 
Satoru wraps you in one of them, and wraps himself in the other. the two of you lay down next to one another, your limbs tangled and sore as you stare into each other's eyes. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in and giving you a kiss filled with so much love, you swear you can die on the spot. 
"I wasn't lying,, about what I said earlier." you tell him, not breaking eye contact. 
"I know angel, neither was i." 
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xxkissesforchanniexx · 4 months
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𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞
Pairing: Chan x Lee Know little sister!fem!reader (non-idol au) Genre: Fluff + Smut angst kinda >.>(im bad at writing it forgive me...) Word Count: 8.6k (HOLY SHIT THATS THE LONGEST ONE YET) Warnings: mutual pining, mentions of cheating, protective Minho, underage drinking if you pay close attention, fighting >.> <.< DONT DO IT, unprotected sex pullout method >.>, cringe ending as usual. i think thats everything?
A/N: I genuinely started tweaking writing this uh requests are open until like august. this request is old... so... im sorry i only just got to it ;-; I'm also so sorry if the story is >.>... cringe T_T my brain has been like fried eggs lately.
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The first time Chan agreed to go to Minho's house, he was in his sophomore year of high school, when Minho had mentioned he had a sister, Chan hadn't thought much of it.
Until Chan saw you; the pretty, sweet (to him at least), smart 8th grader that was Minho's little sister.
You had poked your head into Minho's room, "Bro have you seen my hair rollers?"
Chan looked up at you from his book.
Minho looked at you and made a face. "I don't know where you put that stuff."
"Minho!" You threw the door open and frowned at him. "You borrowed them!"
"WHY WOULD I BORROW THOSE???"
"I DON'T FUCK-" You paused, eyes flicking to Chan.
Minho smiled evilly. "I'm telling mom!"
"MIN!" You shouted, "OH!" You stomped your foot for a moment before huffing. You took long strides to Minho's bedside table and grabbed his wallet.
"Where are you going!?" He shouted as you went back to the door.
"Buy more hair rollers." You said, slamming the door behind you.
Chan looked at his book and cleared his throat trying to disguise his laugh. You were cute, just a little bit.
Minho looked at his friend before his eyes narrowed. "Hey."
Chan looked at him, "Huh?"
"Chan... You're my guy. My best friend." Minho got up from his bed and smiled genuinely at him, "For the sake of our friendship, don't..."
Chan raised a brow. "Don't what?"
Minho made a face. "Chan."
Chan laughed. "Minho. I couldn't. Be for real. She's your sister. I'll be with her and be constantly reminded of you." He shuddered.
"Haha." Minho punched him. "Promise?"
"How old are we?" Chan raised a brow.
Minho looked serious.
Chan sighed. "I promise."
Yet... he couldn't keep that promise. Not while you were so busy being you.
You pulled into your parents' driveway. You had just finished your sophmore year of college, you checked your phone and messaged Minho saying you were home and to open the door.
You waited for a few minutes, scrolling on instagram before checking to see if Minho had read your message. It was still on delivered..
You sighed and called his phone. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. "MINHO!" You made a face and finally decided to check your brother's location.
He was an hour away. At the mall.
You were about to call him again when he called you first.
"Oh, you're home already?" he asked, munching on something.
"Yes." You exhaled. "Why aren't you here to let me in?!"
"HEY HEY HEY!" He said, "Someone is there."
"Who?" You fianlly got out of your car and grabbed your bag from the trunk, dragging it to the front door.
"Chan."
You made a face and rang the doorbell. "Yada yada."
"Hey, respect me. I'm older than you!" Minho huffed.
"Ah hush." You rang the bell again. "Is that weirdo friend of yours even here-"
The door opened and you looked at the man standing there, his hair was unruly and he looked like he just woke up. You looked him up and down for a moment- he looked different, older, more muscular, the tank top wasn't helping much, you could see the outline of his pecs. "Chan?"
"AH I told you he'd open the door-" Minho started but you hung up the phone.
The muscular man crossed his arms. "Do I know you?"
"Uh- I live here?" Your brows furrowed.
"The only women I know live here is Minho's mother and a silly 11th grader I haven't seen in years." Chan sighed, "Minho doesn't take squatters. He already has 3."
"Bang Christopher Chan." Your eyes narrowed. "Did you just call my babies SQUATTERS????"
Chan's mouth fell open. "Y/n-"
"I'm telling Minho!" You pushed into the house and Chan trailed behind you.
"Let me carry that bag for you-"
"No, no, no!" You swatted his hand away. "You think my babies are squatters." You huffed and ran to your elder brother's cat, Soonie, that happened to be looking around the corner.
Chan rolled his eyes and you picked it up and started baby talking to it. "It's a cat-"
"You speak fluent baby to Berry. Don't judge me." You walked with the cat up the stairs to your room.
Chan sighed deeply.
"Chan, bring my bag upstairs thanks." You smiled sweetly and skipped back up the stairs with the cat.
Chan tongued the inside of his mouth a bit annoyed, you hadn't changed one bit. You just looked more mature. More like a woman, the curve of your waist more defined to your hips, you seemed prettier, your- … What are you thinking...
Chan pursed his lips and grabbed your bag, taking it up stairs.
He watched as you entered your room.
"Did Minho touch any of my stuff?" You asked looking around.
"Not that I know of." Chan hummed setting the bag on the bed.
You turned and gasped. "MY GUDETAMA PLUSH IS GONE!"
Chan tilted his head. "Your what?"
You fumed. "MY EGG PLUSHIE!"
Chan's face fell. "The one that was over there-" He pointed to your desk.
Your eyes narrowed. "Bang Christopher Chan. Where is my egg-"
"HERE!" Minho shouted, sliding into your room, holding up a Gudetama plushie.
You looked at your older brother. "Minho. It's not even the same plushie."
Minho opened his mouth then closed it.
"MIN!"
"AHHH JISUNG DROPPED IT IN PAINT!"
"WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING IN MY ROOM??!?!"
"It was Changbin's idea!"
"OHH!! LEE MINHO! GET OUT!" You fumed.
Chan and Minho scurried away before Minho burst out laughing as he got to the bottom of the steps. Chan rolled his eyes and laughed.
"I'll give her the money to replace it later." Minho sighed, "Tryna get some drinks? Jisung is paying."
Chan nodded, grabbing his phone from the table and staring at your cat Dori. The brown, grey striped cat tilted its head at Chan and the man pet it gently. "Tell Y/N I'm sorry yeah?"
The cat purred and Chan smiled before following Minho out.
Chan finished off his alcohol and turned to Hyunjin, "Hyunjinnie."
The long, dark haired man looked at him, "Huh?"
"That egg thing Jisung covered in paint."
"What about it?" Hyunjin asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"What was it called?"
Jisung looked up from his food. "Gudetama?"
"Yeah that." Chan hummed. "Where do I get one that looks like it? Exact replica.."
Hyunjin shrugged. "Google it."
Chan huffed, and started searching.
Minho looked at him, "Why are you wondering?"
Chan pursed his lips. "We did mess it up."
Minho grabbed Chan's phone. "Chan." His face was expression was blank.
"Minho, I'm just trying to replace it." Chan grabbed his phone back and sighed.
Hyunjin gave Minho a look and kept eating.
Minho didn't say anything to Chan until everyone was going home only saying "see ya."
It was over a week later you came home with your friend Sua to hang out and when you opened your bedroom door you smiled at the sight of the a new Gudetama plushie. The CORRECT one.
"Where did that come from?" Sua asked as she sat on your bed, grabbing your Cinnamoroll and hugging it.
"Minho probably got it." You grabbed the egg and admired it except as you brought it to your face and inhaled, past the scent of the store... you smelled the cologne it smelled like... You pulled Gudetama away from your face and stared at it for a long moment.
"What?" Sua asked.
"Nothing..." You murmured.
Sua took the Gudetama from you and inspected it. "It's definitely new.. it smells like the store but..." She smelled it again. "Who's cologne is that?"
You rolled your eyes and grabbed it back, hugging it. "Doesn't matter.." But as you thought about the way he'd looked at you when he opened the door, the way his muscles seemed to strain against his shirt as he crossed his arms... You shook your head. So what if he had grown up a little bit. So had Minho's other friends, it didn't matter.
Yet recognizing the faint scent that lingered on the plushie, the faint scent you'd picked up from him as you pushed past him, you hugged the plushie just a little bit tighter.
Chan spun in the spinning chair in the library. He looked up at the ceiling, brain racing with so many thoughts. Had you seen it? Had you liked it?
"Chan." Hyunjin flicked his forehead. "Did I write my part good?"
"Uh huh." Chan said dismissively.
"You seem lost in thought..." Jeongin said, rolling over in his chair. "Something on your mind?"
Someone.. "No, nothing." Chan shrugged.
Jeongin's eyes narrowed, "I think..."
Chan looked at him. "Wha-"
Jeongin grabbed Chan's laptop and ran off with it, "THE SECRETS ARE HERE!" He shouted, "PROTECT ME HYUNG!"
Hyunjin tried his best to hold Chan in his chair but the latter easily sprang away and sprinted after Jeongin.
"INNIE RUN AWAY!" Hyunjin squealed.
As Chan was about to pounce on the younger man, the library assistant, a young woman with dark hair and brown eyes with a small mole on her cheek, cleared her throat. As Chan got a better look he realized the woman was your friend, Sua.
"Please be quiet." She rolled her eyes before walking into the small room and pushing the chairs back into place, she sniffed slightly, as if sick and Hyunjin offered her a tissue which she gratefully accepted before leaving the room.
Chan grabbed his computer from Jeongin and sat back in his spinning chair. "There is no secret."
The younger men looked at each other, "Sure," Hyunjin said, "Totally," Jeongin huffed.
As Sua walked away she smiled to herself and looked back. So that's who got Gudetama...
You were out with Sua at the mall, "Y/N." She smiled, "This would look so good on you." She pushed a very short skirt into your hands.
"Are we going to a strip club??" You stared at your friend in shock. "Min will kill me if I wear this."
She nudged you, "You can't stay so single and innocent forever." Sua's eyebrows bounced comically. "But then again.." She pulled the skirt to herself. "Do you think Seungmin would like me in this?"
You rolled your eyes. "If Seungmin noticed you."
She shoved you. "MEANIE!"
You giggled and kept looking for clothes.
"Ok..." She sighed.
You turned to the jewelry area and left Sua looking at bottoms alone. As you looked at the earrings and necklaces and bracelets, a pair of earrings caught your attention, it was simple, small silver half hoop earrings. You moved down the glass to get a better look and as you rested your hand on the glass display, a hand brushed yours. You looked at the hand for a brief moment before seeing the veiny arm, your stomach flipped.
You looked at the man, he looked at you, brow raised.
"Sorry." You pulled away.
"It was my fault." The man laughed. "I was just looking at those earrings." he pointed to the earrings you had your eyes on.
"Oh-" You smiled slightly, "I was looking at those too."
His eyes widened slightly, "You probably saw them first-"
"No it's fine." You were about to move away.
"It's fine really." the man waved over the store clerk. "How much for these?"
Your brows furrowed. "I-"
"550,000 sir." The clerk said.
The man slid his card across the table and smiled at you. "It's the least I can do, I think I made you uncomfortable."
You opened your mouth then closed it. What was this guy doing..
"I'm Minseok." He put his hand out to shake yours.
You smiled sheepishly. "Y/N, and really you don't have to get me these-"
The store clerk came back with a key and opened the glass display, closing the earrings box and putting it in a bag. The clerk handed the bag to Minseok with his receipt and card.
"I insist."Minseok handed you the bag.
"Y/N, did you find someth-" Sua came over, carrying a lot of bags and looked at you then Minseok and back at you, a devious grin spread across her lips and you wanted to hide.
Minseok wrote something on the back of his receipt before handing it to you. "Call me?" He smiled and walked out of the store.
"WHO WAS THAT FINE GLASS OF WINE????" Sua grabbed you, "What did he give you?" She grabbed the bag and smiled at the earrings, "Oh my, a man of taste! What's his name-"
"SUA!" you grabbed your friend's face. "Stop rambling. He bumped into me."
"And bought you earrings for 550,000 won as an apology?"
You sucked in a breath.
"He was definitely into you." She smiled dreamily. "If only I could find Seungmin in such a way."
You rolled your eyes. "Let's go."
But you had ended up shooting Minseok a text... why not?
Chan came over with the guys to celebrate Minho getting a promotion. "Ah, look at the best dance instructor this city has ever seen." Chan hugged him tightly as he entered the house.
Minho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Congrats man." Jisung patted Minho on the back, "Now with the money you're making you can finally pay when we go out to eat."
Minho made a face.
"Stop annoying him," Jeongin smiled. "But really congrats."
Minho smiled, "Come on in guys," He led the men in and to the dining room, "Tada!"
The men smiled at the sight of the barbecue and they all began eating. Chan teased Minho most of the evening until, he heard steps on the stairs. He turned to look at the stairs and his heart skipped a beat.
You were coming down the steps with Sua, dressed up to go out, skirt that showed your perfect legs and a shirt that drew attention to your curves and cleavage.
You came to your older brother and gave him a quick hug, "Congrats Minho."
As you started to pull away he grabbed your hand. "Jacket?" He asked.
You held up your jacket.
"Phone?"
You held up your phone the yellow Gudetama case that Sua had bought you drew Chan's attention momentarily.
"Pepper spray?" Minho tilted his head.
You shook your purse a bit.
He smiled, "Have fun. Don't let a creep touch you."
"Yeah yeah." You followed Sua out.
"Where's she going?" Changbin asked, munching on his beef.
"Party." Minho shrugged.
"Bound to get attention dressed like that," Hyunjin sipped his soda, "Who's party?"
"Some guy from college apparently." Minho shrugged. "Sua's with her so she should be fine."
Chan's eyes narrowed, "Minho, you're letting her go to 'some guy's' party?"
Minho looked at him. "She'll call if something happens, besides she knows not to drink."
Chan sighed, "Alright."
The other men looked at them, but no one said anything.
After the little celebration Chan was driving home, it was almost 1 in the morning, he came to a red light in front of a bar and tapped his thumb on the wheel to the rhythm of the music. He glanced out at the bar and his brows furrowed. There was a girl who looked suspiciously like you, stumbling out.
Chan was about to ignore it when a man came out of the bar after the girl. He sighed, the cars at the cross section slowing down and just as he was about to drive he watched as the girl reached into her bag for something and pulled out a yellow case with lazy egg.
Chan pulled off to the side and got out of his car as the man grabbed your shoulder. You shoved him off in your drunk daze but he was persisting.
And right as he grabbed your wrist Chan grabbed his forearm. "Can't you see she doesn't like you?" Chan's eyes narrowed, "Get out of here before I beat the shit out of you."
The man stared at Chan for a moment. Chan gripped the man's arm tighter.
"Bitch." The man released you roughly and stormed off down the street.
"Chan-" You looked at him, about to speak.
"Get in the car." He said lowly.
You opened your mouth, then closed it as he tilted his had at you daring you to say something back. You walked to the car and he opened the door to let you, closing it a you entered before going to the driver's side and entering.
"Please don't tell Min." You said as he settled.
"Where's Sua?" Chan turned to you.
"She ran off with some guy.." You said quietly.
"Why didn't you leave then?"
"Who are you my dad?"
"Y/N."
You looked at your hands. "I didn't want to."
Chan hook hi head and tarted the car again, before pulling back onto the road, he was about to go back to your house as he scolded you when you suddenly covered your mouth.
Chan sucked in a breath. "Y/N no- Not in my car-" Chan pulled over by a tree and you jumped out of the car and ran to the tree.
He cringed as you vomited and stepped out of the car, carefully taking your hair into his hand and holding it out of the way until you were jut dry heaving.
"You good now?" He asked.
You nodded.
Chan got you back in the car and gave you water.
"Chan..." You said after taking a drink. "Don't tell Minho. Please."
"Ok, ok, I won't." He sighed.
"Don't wanna go home."
"You have to."
"CHANNIE!" You whined.
Chan turned so fast, his head could've spun off his shoulders. He blinked before turning back to the road. Chris. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?
"If I go home, Minho will know I'm drunk and he'll tell our parents and I won't be allowed out again." You grabbed his arm. "Chan.."
Chan sucked in a breath. "Just this once."
You smiled and hugged his arm. Chan felt his face getting hot but kept driving back to his place.
Chan had really trusted you when you said you were fine, you vomited again, outside his apartment complex and this time it had gotten on your shirt. So when you had gotten into his apartment he forced you to the bathroom and gave you some of his clothes to wear.
You were lying on Chan's couch, half asleep while he got you food because you wouldn't stop asking.
Your phone rang.
Chan was about to grab it but he froze. What would Minho think...
You grabbed your phone and answered. "Hello... No... I'm at Sua's... Chan? No I haven't heard from him... No I didn't drink... No I didn't bring a guy with me to Sua's... Okay... Tell my babies I love them... Good night Min." You hung up the phone and looked at Chan. "All handled."
Chan turned to face you and his stomach did somersaults. You standing there in his shirt, his sweatpants, looking so...
You tilted your head. "Are you drunk too, Channie?" You hummed.
Chan shook his head. "Haha. Here eat."
You smiled and took the food, going back to the couch, munching. Chan closed himself in the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his hands over his face for a moment before tuning on the tap and splashing his face. "Christopher... It's Y/N." he told himself. "It's just Y/N.."
A knock on the bathroom door made Chan look up. He patted his face dry with the towel on the bar and opened the door.
You stood there, looking at him. "Are you okay?" You asked.
He nodded, "I'm just really tired."
"I'm sorry for bothering you." You muttered, "Thank you.."
Chan felt his heart flutter and he smiled gently. "It's okay. Sleep in my room 'kay? I'll take the couch."
"I can't.." You mumble.
Chan made a face, "Why?"
"I don't have Gudetama.."
Chan opened his mouth then closed it.
"It keeps me safe at night." You looked down and gripped the hem of your his shirt tightly in your hands.
What was Chan supposed to say... What could he say without sounding weird or mean..
"Stay with me?"
Chan broke out of his trance as he heard that. "What?"
"Stay with me.. Because I'm scared.. I won't tell Minho."
What could he have said....
"Alright."
You woke up, head pounding, in the softest bed you've ever been in, as you opened your eyes you winced as the sun entering through soft grey curtains assaulted your already pained brain. You felt a breath against your hair and were about to jump away when the scent hit you... You looked around momentarily, it must be really early.
It wouldn't hurt.. You relaxed against his chest and hugged the arm he had around your waist. He was warm. Infectiously so. You felt warm in more ways than one. You smiled contentedly and closed your eyes again. Minho didn't have to know.
When you woke up again you heard voices, you sat up and slowly got out of Chan's bed. Your head throbbed slightly but you ignored it out of curiosity, you poked your head out the door and listened.
"I'm screwed, Hyunjin..." Chan said softly.
"If you tell Minho I'm sure he won't be that mad." Hyunjin replied.
Mad why? Because Chan helped me?
"Hyunjin." Chan said, more firmly. "I promised."
"Chan, it's completely human to feel like tha-"
"Hyunjin-ah!" Chan said a bit loudly before quieting himself. "It's not that I feel like that, even when I'm not feeling like THAT, I feel like..." Chan sighed deeply.
You backed up into the room. Feel like what... You wondered before grabbing your phone and texting Sua to come pick you up with a change of clothes.
When you got in Sua's car you looked at her.
"Do I have a lot to tell you?" She said giddily.
"I don't want to hear about what you did last night-" You started.
"Not me you dummy! The guy you met at the mall."
You turned to face her completely. "What about him?"
"He followed me on instagram this morning, I think he was seriously into you. He wants you to call him so he can take you out." She raised her brows stupidly.
"I-" you closed your mouth and thought about it for a moment, what harm could there be in going on one date? "I'll give him a call later."
"Atta girl!" Sua squealed before turning on her car and pulling out of Chan's apartment complex, "But guess what?"
"What?" You raised a brow.
"I SAID GUESS!" She wined.
"Ok, ok..." You racked your brain for a moment. "You bought new shoes?"
As Sua came to an intersection she slowed to halt at the red light and smacked your arm. "No."
"OW!" You huffed. "Tell me."
"I got Seungmin's number!"
You blinked. "How?"
She smiled, "Well, as I was going home with that guy yesterday Seungmin happened to be around and saved me-"
"Didn't you ask that guy to go home with you thou-"
"HUSH I'm not done!" She huffed, turning back to the road as the light turned green. "And Seungmin saved me and told me not to go home with strangers and if I get drunk again with no ride, I should call him." She sighed dreamily before her expression snapped to one of confusion. "How did you end up in Chan's apartment?" Her eyes widened, "DID YOU GUYS-"
"NO!" You shrieked. "No, he kept his distance."
"And you slept alone? YOU?!"
You pursed your lips. "When I woke up he was in bed too bu-"
"BUTT NAKED?!"
"SUA! NO! WE WERE CLOTHED!" You felt your face getting hot.
"You were drunk, in a man's house and you didn't do anything?? Not even kiss?"
"No." You slapped your cheeks. "We didn't do anything."
"But.. did you want to?" She glanced at you before looking back at the road.
"No." You rolled your eyes. Then you remembered. How he'd looked at you in his apartment, like he wanted to pounce on you. "Bu-"
"Did he want to do something?" Sua drove into a café's parking lot.
"I..." Your face felt hotter as you remembered how Chan held you. "I don't know..."
That was all Sua needed to ramble about how Chan must be pining over you. And it was for that reason you didn't mention what you'd heard Chan telling Hyunjin that morning.
You'd called Minseok that evening, he insisted that you stay home and get past your hangover and that he could meet you another day. Though it wasn't intentional, you and Minseok spoke almost on the daily, before he asked you if you wanted to go out for lunch. You were about ready to go out when someone knocked on your bedroom door. You opened it and blinked at the sight of Chan.
He was looking at his phone for something. "Minho wanted to know when you'd be back so we could get dri-" He froze as he looked up at you.
"Chan?" You tilted your head slightly.
"Uh.. You look really pretty." He said.
You looked down and smiled slightly.
"Who are you even going to meet up with?"
You opened your mouth then closed it, no one knew about Minseok except Sua and Minho. "A guy."
Chan visibly stiffened. "Who?"
"I'll tell you about him later-" You tried to move past him but he blocked the doorway with his body.
"Where did you get those?" He pointed at your earrings.
My date.. "Sua." You lied.
He nodded. "Okay.."
You moved past him and managed to dodge your brother's inventory check as you skipped to the door. Right as the bell rang.
You opened it and smiled at Minseok. He smiled gently before his gaze flicked behind you.
You looked back at Chan and smiled.
Chan wanted to kill that guy. He didn't like him one bit, not the way he smiled or the way he took your hand to lead you out. Nothing. But more than that, Minseok always always looked at Chan as if he'd won something, as if Chan had lost the battle and the war he didn't even know had started. Two into your relationship and Minseok still had that look for Chan. Two months.
Minho had invited Minseok along with the guys for drinks. The entire night Minseok was giving Chan sideways looks. Until Minho asked, "How did you meet Y/N?"
"Oh," Minseok smiled fondly at his drink. "I bumped into her at the mall and I made her a bit uncomfortable with how awkward of an apology I gave so.. I bought her a pair of earrings and gave her my number. I didn't expect her to call back really... But fate is nice.."
Chan's brows furrowed. "What kind of earrings?"
"Silver ones-" Minseok started.
"Half hoops?" Chan pressed, gripping his bottle.
"Yeah." Minseok said, "Small, silver, half hoops."
Chan leaned back in his chair. You'd lied... You'd lied to him. For Minseok..
"Channie-hyung-" Jeongin reached for him.
Chan pushed back his chair and smiled at Minho, "I'm going to head back early," He waved at the other men and rested his gaze on Minseok for a brief moment.
"You're drunk, let me at least call you a cab-" Minho started.
"I want to walk."
"It's dar-"
"Goodnight guys." Chan turned and left them all at the table in confusion.
Hyunjin shot Seungmin a knowing look and kept drinking.
Chan wandered aimlessly for a while, lost in thought. He eventually found himself at a playground and sat down on a swing. As he swung back and forth, he thought about you and Minseok. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all..
He felt his eyes welling with tears. "What are you even crying about Chris?!" He groaned in frustration and wiped the tears from his eyes.
He cared too much, about you and Minho. He cared too much to see you with someone else. He cared so much that it hurt to care. Even as he took deep breaths to compose himself he couldn't stop the hot salty tears streaming down his cheeks.. But-
"Channie?"
He looked up at the sound of your voice. You stood there, in a sweater that definitely wasn't yours... It was probably Minseok's... and a pair of sweatpants.
"Why are you crying?" You sat in the swing next to him and stared at him.
If only you knew...
"I've just been thinking recently." He muttered.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
Chan stared at you for a long moment and then simply leaned over and rested his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder.
You stared blankly for a moment before relaxing and stroking his dark hair gently.
"Can I ask you something.." He muttered against your skin and you felt a chill go down your spine.
"Anything..." You breathed.
He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "Will you stop me?"
"From doing what?" You stared at him in confusion for a moment before he leaned into you, breath mingling with yours.
"This.." He muttered, plump lips grazing yours before they finally met your own in a gentle kiss. He pulled away for a moment, giving you the opportunity to shout at him, to slap him and ask if he was okay mentally.
But you didn't..
And he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue prodding at your lips for entry. You clutched Chan's shirt as his tongue slid into your mouth, the taste of alcohol still on his lips, but you didn't pull away. Not when he kissed you like that, kissed you like he'd been meaning to for months... years even. You didn't pull away even as you felt the burn of your lungs begging for air. But he pulled awa, his eyes dark, pupils blown, clouding over with something you hadn't seen before.
You sat up in bed and slapped your flushed cheeks. What on earth were you thinking...
Chan noticed you were steering clear of him like the plague. You were going back to school soon so maybe that's why. He saw you when he and Jeongin came over to see Minho but even then you only waved at him at the door and kept about your business. Maybe he had done wrong kissing you like that.
You were leaving again. Bags all packed and ready to go back to your dorm.
"AH!" Changbin hugged ypu tightly. "You're leaving us again! Who will come to Changbin Salon if you go!"
You giggled. "I'll be back in a few months for Christmas guys. Don't worry about me-"
"Y/nnie." Minho sighed, smoothing out her clothes, "Just take care of yourself. Don't get drunk. Don't stay up late. Don't talk to weirdos-"
You hugged your brother and rolled your eyes. "Whatever."
Your parents started bickering with you about taking care of yourself.
You gave Minseok a kiss and he hugged you tightly, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle.
You finally looked at Chan and smiled.
Chan smiled too, eyes widening in shock slightly as you hugged him tightly. He relaxed and hugged you back. "Take care."
You nodded, "Bye!" You got into your car right as Changbin and Minho finished throwing your stuff into the trunk.
They all waved as you pulled out of the driveway, and you were gone again...
Chan stuck around for a bit longer chatting with Minho and your parents before deciding to go home. As Chan made his way to his car he stopped as he heard someone.
"Chan."
Chan turned and stared at Minseok. "Huh?"
"Do yourself a favor," Minseok pulled out his own car keys and unlocked his vehicle. "And stay away from Y/N. 'Kay?"
Chan raised a brow. "Is there a problem with me being around her?"
"A little bird told me, you just want to get your dick wet. So I suggest you find someone else." Minseok shrugged.
He stared at the other man for a long moment. "What if... I just want to take her from you?"
Minseok's eyes went wide.
Chan unlocked his car and got in before Minseok could say anything.
You'd been in school for a couple of months, sure, you called Minseok everyday, it didn't kill the feeling of him being so far away though.
You had gotten back from class and were doing your homework when you got a text from Minseok. You smiled slightly and picked up your phone to look at it. As you read his message you rolled your eyes and called him
He answered almost immediately. "AH! Baby. It feels like I haven't talked to you in forever."
You rolled your eyes and giggled. "We talked this morning."
"Exactly, forever." He joked.
You put the phone on speaker and set it down as you started getting your materials for studying. "When did you get so needy?"
"When did you get so distant?" he countered.
You laughed. "I'll be around soon."
"Take your time with your studies.. I don't want to mess up your brain right now."
You smiled. "It's fine really."
"I'm gonna be really busy soon."
"Oh?" You flipped through your textbook, taking notes. "With what?"
"Work stuff." he said dismissively.
"Don't overwork yourself."
"Says you."
You pursed your lips and sighed. "Minseok."
"AAH! Okay.. I have to go now, sleep early. Make sure you eat. AND DRINK WATER." He said.
"Okay. Good night baby."
"Good night y/nnie."
You hung up and leaned back in your chair thoughtfully. You should visit home soon..
The next following day you called Minseok after class he didn't answer. You shrugged it off and assumed he was busy with work as he said he would be.
You called Jisung and he ranted to you about how Minho was being annoying and how Seungmin was bouncing off the walls about Sua.
You smiled as you thought about how vividly she used to squeal about Seungmin. As you were about to go to sleep, your phone rang and you looked at the contact, smiling at your boyfriends ID before answering.
"Hey love, sorry I didn't answer. I got held up at work." he said.
"It's fine," You rolled onto your back and put the phone on speaker, yawning as you asked, "Anything happen at home?"
"You sound tired." he aid, "And no."
You hummed. "I am tired."
"Sleep. You have classes tomorrow."
"Fuck class. I'd rather stay up listening to you."
"When did you get so needy?" He teased.
You giggled.
As you listened to Minseok rant about work and other things you relaxed and fell asleep even though you said you wouldn't..
You didn't notice it at first, but almost a month later, you realized that Minseok never answered your calls; he always called you back, and always very late. You could try to blame it on his work, but something just didn't sit right with you. But you ignored the feeling. Planning to visit during your break in the fall and catch up with everyone.
What reason did you not have to trust Minseok?
When you called him the day before your trip he didn't answer. Which didn't surprise you at all. But you still felt a small pang as you looked at the box you'd purchased just a week earlier. What was surprising was that he didn't call you back.
Still you got in your car the next morning, and drove all the way back home.
Minho and your parents greeted you with bear hugs and kisses.
You went out with Minho later that day to go eat and after an intense game of rock paper scissors, you had to go to the front and order. As you made your order and Minho's you noticed Chan sitting at a table with a very pretty woman. You finished your orders and approached waving slightly at Chan.
He looked at you and smiled. "You're back in town already? How's school?"
You laughed. "I'm on break. School's fine." You noticed the way the girl stirred her drink with her straw. "Who's this?" You asked.
Chan looked at her then back at you. "Yeojin. She's a friend."
The girl gave you a small smile but you felt a bit tense. As if you were challenging her... "It's nice to meet you." She extended her hand out out you."
"Likewise." You smiled and took her hand gently shaking it before turning back to Chan, "I've gotta go, maybe we'll see each other around?"
He nodded. "It was nice seeing you." As you walked away you noticed how he spoke to Yeojin so passionately, taking her hands in his. Your heart panged. You should be happy... You should be happy he finally got over what he told Hyunjin that day... Yet it annoyed you. It made you so mad you wanted to scream. But you didn't. You ignored the feeling. You had Minseok. What more could you need?
"Have you heard from Minseok?" You asked your brother as he spun in the spinning chair by your desk.
"Not recently why?" He looked at you.
You shrugged, looking at your phone. You checked Minho's location and saw he was still at work. You'd wait for him to get to his apartment then you'd surprise him with your gift and everything would be good. "He's been stressing about work recently... I just wanted to make sure he's alright."
"Go see him then." Minho said, rolling his eyes.
"When he gets back from work." You smiled, looking at the box in your bag.
So almost two hours later, when you checked your phone and saw he was finally home. You took a cab to his apartment and eagerly, pushed the button at the elevator. You jumped a bit before calming yourself. It was just Minseok... your sweet, caring, affectionate, handsome man.
Yet as you got to his floor, as you approached his door something in you twisted. You felt wary for a reason you couldn't explain. Even as you typed the passcode for his lock and it beeped in affirmation, as you opened the door to his dark apartment, something in you still lurched in suspense. Like your body knew what was coming and your heart and mind couldn't accept it. Even as you rounded the corner of the hall and saw an extra pair of shoes by the entrance.
Heels..
You still walked through the living room and kitchen area. Right down to the other hall and to Minseok's bedroom door. Even as you heard them through the crack in the door you opened it.. and the tears that had been welling in your eyes since you walked into the dark apartment finally fell at the sight of Minseok, his dick buried in some other girl.
"Cho Minseok."
He sprang up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as he finally took in your prescene.
You threw the box on the floor and whispered. "You asshole."
"Y/n!" You ran to the elevator and got in just in time to turn and see him running as the elevator closed, bedsheet wrapped around his waist as he called after you.
As the elevator went down your mind and heart finally caught up with the rest of your body and you fell to the cold floor and cried.
The last place Chan expected to see you, was bumbling down the street at night. Drunk.
Yet when he finally convinced you to get in his car he groaned and looked at you. "What on earth are you doing?"
You didn't answer, staring blankly out of the car window.
"I'll call Minseok to come get you-"
"Don't." You said quietly.
"Y/n." He sighed. "Minseok won't judge you for getting drunk, he probably won't tell Minho eithe-"
"Minseok is busy right now!" You snapped.
Chan stared at you. "Busy with what?"
"How is it your business?" You snapped. "You hate Minseok, I get it. but our relationship isn't your business."
"When are you going to stop him from running all over you, Y/N!?" Chan shouted.
You froze."Why do you care... go back to Yeojin."
Chan stared at you. "i have nothing with her..."
You took a few shaky breaths before you buried your face in your hands.
Chan took your hand and squeezed it gently whispering. "What happened?"
You looked at him, his coffee colored eyes so sincere. No judgement or ulterior motives, nothing but patience and empathy.
You leaned against him over the console. "He's with someone else."
"Since when?" He asked, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.
"I don't fucking know and I don't give a damn."
He hummed. "You wanna go home?"
"I don't want an earful from Minho." You said, closing your eyes.
Chan pulled away and started the car. The alcohol finally claimed your consciousness. You woke up a while later on Chan's bed, you sat up, still a bit tipsy. You stood from the bed and stumbled slightly as you walked. You saw Chan on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"You left me alone again..." you said softly.
Chan looked at you. "I thought you'd be alright."
You stared at him.
"Come here.." he muttered.
You moved to him and sat beside him on the couch, leaning into hiss body heat.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, then your mouth ran faster than your brain could help and you asked. "Do you like me..."
Chan's body stiffened.
"Be honest.."
"Y/n."
"Tell me."
"Minho would be angry at me-"
"CHAN!" You snapped, pulling away from him. "No... I understand. No one really likes me because I'm jus-"
He cut you off, kissing you. Your eyes widened momentarily before you relaxed and kissed him back. Your already cloudy mind felt like it was covered by a drape of emotion you couldn't understand, taking all your air away, wrapping itself around you like an anaconda. It squeezed the very passion from your veins and pushed it all into that kiss.
Chan pulled away for air first and your eyes met as he finally whispered. "I don't like you. I love you."
You kissed him again as he leaned into you, pinning you to the couch. His lips moved from yours to your jaw and neck before he froze. Minho... He started to pull away. "Y/n we can't-"
You grabbed his face in your hands and whispered, tears brimming in your eyes, "Please..."
Chan couldn't tell in the rush of getting you from the couch into his room how he ended up beneath you. Staring up into your pretty eyes before you leaned down to kiss him, his tongue fought with yours as your hands lifted his shirt and ran over his chiseled abdomen. When you moaned softly into his mouth something in his snapped and he grabbed you. Flipping you both and pinning you to the bed, staring down at you.
You smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes before kissing you agan, his lips moving to attack your neck and collar bones before he pulled off your shirt. You whined and tugged at his before he pulled it over his head and tossed his somewhere. You reached up and caressed his stomach before he took your hand in his and your fingers intertwined as he pinned it to the bed.
"We shouldn't..." He mumbled against your lips.
"Want you to.." You whispered.
"Fuck.." he moaned softly against your lips and rubbed his crotch against your clothed heat.
You pulled your hands free and wrapped them around him, pulling him down to you. Your world seemed to blur and darken, your only focus the man above you. How he worshipped you, lips moving from your jaw to your throat, decorating your skin with love bites. Moving lower and pulling your pants down slowly.
It wasn't painful or rushed. He kissed you slowly, filling you to the brim and more, each thrust met with soft cry from you. His hands at your hip pulling you into each push of his pelvis against yours. He leaned down and kissed you, his body caging you in, you held onto him tightly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he bucked into you again and again. Knocking the air from your lungs every time he fucked into you, pushing deep, deep.
Mesmerized by the sight of of your pussy engulfing his cock as you whimpered and mewled beneath him.
"Are you going to cum for me?" He mumbled in your ear. "Gonna milk me dry, sweet girl?"
Your back arched off the bed at that, Chan groaned and reached between you rubbing your sensitive clit.
"Cum for me princess." He breathed into your neck, pulling out slowly before stuffing his cock into you roughly again.
"Channie!" Your pussy clenched tightly around hiss manhood and he pulled out. Pumping his cock until his release shot onto your breasts and stomach.
He held himself over you. "Fuck..." He dragged himself up to get something to clean you but when he came his eyes went wide at the sight of your hands on your face the soft sound of your sobs reaching his earss. "Y/N- I shouldn't have. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry-"
"Not you." You said, taking a deep shaky breath.
"Then-"
You took your hands away from your face and smiled. "I love you Chan.."
He smiled gently and kissed your forehead before cleaning you and getting back into bed.
"Can I ask you a question?" You said in the quiet darkness.
"Huh?" He turned to you.
"Did you replace Gudetama?"
Chan smiled. "Was it so obvious?"
"It smelled like your cologne.."
"You paid attention to how I smelled?" he gasped in shock.
"Shut up." You smacked his chest and rolled your eyes despite your face going hot.
He smirked and kissed the top of your head. "I don't mind."
You rolled your eyes but moved closer, relaxing into his warm embrace before falling asleep.
Chan hugged you to his chest, staring up at the ceiling as he caressed your hair. He heard something buzz and looked at your phone on his bedside table. He took in your peacefully sleeping face and smiled about to ignore it. Then it rang.
He moved away from you slowly and reached over you grabbing the jingling device. Minseok's face flashed across your screen. Chan made a face and answered, pulling the covers over your bare body before bringing the phone to his ear.
"Y/N! I'm so glad you finally answered! Baby it's not what you thought! I don't even know her real-"
"Y/n is busy," Chan said, looking at you sleeping.
"Chan?" Minseok asked, confused. "Pass her the phone."
"She's exhausted," Chan said, "and it's because of you. I doubt she'll call you back, so please don't call my girl's number again."
"YOUR GIRL??" He shouted on the other end of the line. "BANG CHAN! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Chan smiled to himself as he said. "Going to sleep with my girlfriend." He got back into bed and smiled at your sleeping face. "Good bye Minseok."
"Oh, Chan I swear-"
Chan hung up and pulled you close to him again.
"What was that about?" You asked half asleep.
"Nothing." Chan kissed your forehead. "Go to sleep."
Chan drove you home the next morning. You were still a bit sad, but as you unlocked the front door your eyes widened at the sight of a disheveled looking Minseok sitting in your kitchen with your elder brother. Chan followed close behind you, his eyes narrowing when he saw the men.
"Y/N!" Minseok jumped from his seat and ran to you.
"Don't touch me!" You shouted as he tried to hug you.
Minho turned to you and Chan. "Minseok told me everything."
"Then why would you let him in-" You started.
"Bang Chan." Minho said quietly. "Get out."
"Minho-" Chan started.
"Get out!" your brother shouted.
"Y/n baby what happened?" Minseok touched your face and you slapped him away.
"What did you tell him?!" You pointed a finger at Minseok.
"What there was to be said." He grabbed your hands and you pulled away.
"Minho. I know what you're thinking-" Chan tried to calm your brother who was standing up now.
"Oh you do?!" Minho said, clearly getting aggravated by Chan's prescence.
"Listen to me-" Chan said, putting his hands up as MInho approached.
But he was cut off by punch to the face that made your eyes widen.
"Bro-" You tried to grab Minho but Minseok grabbed your hand.
"Let's talk about this-" He said before you slapped him hard.
"I told you to stay away from my sister." Minho said, walking up to Chan as he took several steps back.
"Minho let me explain!" Chan said, trying to stay out of his friend's range.
"There's nothing to explain!" Your brother shouted.
"Bro please!" Chan tried.
"Minho!" You grabbed your brother's arm.
He whipped around to face you. "You can't seriously defend him! Y/N!"
"Maybe I am!" You shouted, you walked between Chan and Minho. "No.. I am defending him. He didn't do anything wrong."
Your brother stared at you before looking at Chan and muttering. "Leave."
"Minho." You said softly.
Chan bit his lip before grabbing Minseok and dragging him out with him.
"Why would you do that?!" You shouted as Chan slammed the door behind him.
"Chan wouldn't care about you! IF you knew LIKE I DO you'd understand!" Minho yelled back.
"I don't know him like you do! BUt you should've let him explain!"
"What was there to explain?! He dragged you to bed when you were drunk-"
"DO YOU KNOW WHY?!" You cut him off. "MINSEOK IS AN ASSHOLE! Minseok cheated on me! Chan didn't want to go that far. I asked him to! I like Chan A LOT! Whatever rule or whatever shit you have that keeps me from being with him needs to stop..." You trailed off. "Because you might lose me too."
Your brother stood there in shock as you ran up the stairs.
It was a week later when Chan was out with Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin.
"Just tell Minho you're sorry." Changbin said sipping his cola as the three waited for their food.
"He wouldn't even let me talk." Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Tragic really." Jisung sighed.
Chan and Changbin looked at their friend with blank expressions as if to say be fricking for real.
Jisung sipped his drink. "I think you should just wait a bit. You know? I doubt Minho will stay mad forever, he's your good friend..."
Chan nodded. "I should just apologize whenever he calms down."
"If he doesn't just walk away from the toxic controlling friend." Hyunjin shook his head.
"Apologize now then."
Hyunjin jumped in fear at Minho's voice. "HYUNG!"
Minho looked at Hyunjin. "You'll eat tissues later."
Chan stared at Minho. "How did you even know I was here?"
Jisung looked completely invested in the bubbles floating in his soda suddenly.
Minho laughed and Chan sighed before standing. "Minho I-"
"I'm sorry for punching you." Minho said, "I'm sorry for accusing you of... things... and I'm sorry for making you stay away from Y/N..."
Chan smiled at his friend. "It's alright, I mean I didn't say I liked her before you threw that ban on me suddenly.. I'm sorry too."
The men smiled at each other.
"Hug it out! Hug it out Hug it out! Hug it-" Hyunjin started only to shrink away in fear as Minho grabbed a bunch of napkins from the dispenser on the table.
You laughed and Chan turned to you. "You're here.."
"Someone had to stop Min if he ended up attacking someone." You smiled.
"THEN HELP ME!" Hyunjin started only to get a mouthful of tissues.
You giggled and smiled at Chan as MInho gave him a look.
"May I kiss you princes?" Chan smirked, leaning into you.
MInho acted like he was going to vomit. And Jisung dramatically passed out.
"You may."
Chan pressed his lip against yours.
"ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH!" MInho said rolling his eyes. "You should compensate me for the mental and emotional distress I went through, I say buy me pizza!"
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© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
@asahisimpnation, @juskz
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ghostfacd · 10 months
Text
ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY? | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. after you and tom called it quits, the internet can’t help but make you their punching bag, all because you liked a boy.
part 2 | installment of this au | recommend you read it for more context!
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CELEBRITYNEWS Months after the pair announced they were dating on Instagram, couple Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth have now since broken up due to personal reasons and “mutual agreement” according to a source. We will miss the sweet ex-couple, and we wish the best for Y/N and Tom!
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user1 guys im going to cry
user2 this wasn’t in my 2023 plans.
user3 actual tears
user4 ik rachel is heartbroken rn bc they’re both her close friends and she introduced them to one another 😭😭
➥ user5 you’re so right OMG
user6 they were so good together?? im upset
user7 he’s single now….. YES
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ynuser me time 🌞 (new skincare video up soon yayy!!)
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user8 guys, it’s official. she unfollowed tom
➥ user9 it’s the way he still follows her and likes all her posts like this is too sad to watch ☹️
user10 girly after unfollowing tom and everything even tho he still follows and likes her post
user11 she doesn’t deserve him lol. not then, not now, not ever
sean.kauf ur time
conangray yess i love you yn
➥ ynuser @/conangray @/sean.kauf i love you two 💘
rachelzegler only girls party
➥ user12 oh?
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hollywoodnews Oh? is this a new romance brewing? Actress and music artist, YN Avocot and her fellow actor and cast mate Sean Kaufman seen awfully comfortable in multiple restaurants not long after YN’s breakup with her ex-boyfriend, actor Tom Blyth
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user13 cant defend yn anymore
➥ user14 she never asked u to defend her stop being delulu..
user15 welp called it, she’s a hoe
user16 doesn’t sean have a gf? not her homewrecking…
user17 acting like all that after she’s single please someone humble her immediately
user18 guys stop sending hate to yn, it’s literally not gonna help anyone. she’s single, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants without you guys being down her back 24/7.
liked by @/tomblyth
➥ user19 hello tom blyth literally liked ur comment??
user20 not tom still being nice to her even after all this. Personally me? Id never take that level of disrespect
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ynuser “all because i liked a boy” OUT NOW! This song was originally something else that I put off for a really long time until now, it’s all from my experiences so it makes it very personal for me. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! As always, be kind to yourself and one another ❤️
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sean.kauf love this, love YOU!
➥ ynuser ❤️❤️
conangray this is a masterpiece
user21 THE REFERENCES TO THE HATE COMMENTS OMG ☹️☹️ this song is so good she doesn’t deserve all the hate she gets
user22 and all of this for what? WHEN EVERYTHIN’ WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP
➥ user23 TELL ME WHO I AM GUESS I DONT HAVE A CHOICE
➥ user24 ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOYYYYY
user25 the way tom hasn’t said anything..
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earlysunshines · 1 month
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punches to the heart
pham hanni x fem!reader ; angst, fluff
synopsis: hanni watches you beat up her friend, you two get off on the wrong foot, and it's safe to say hanni basically hates you -- the feeling is mutual. what makes it worse is the fact that you two are bound to run into each other time and time again.
warnings: boxer!reader ; hanni is a nursing student who’s fighting lowk (kinda) ; blood ; violence ; pining ; reader is pretty traumatized ummm ; #enemies to lovers (sorta) ; alcohol ; making out ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread
a/n: ummm I don’t really box lmfao or at least I haven’t done it professionally soooo sorry to any boxers reading this bc there might be mistakes or incorrect terms idk anyways ENJOY!! ^_^ also ignore the fact that yn works at a restaurant in this too LOL half of this fic was from MONTHS ago but i never continued it...
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you’re freshly thirteen, your knees still sting and blood continues to flow out of the scrapes from being pushed onto the ground by two prepubescent boys earlier in the day, but you dab at it a couple of times with spare napkins in your bag to prevent any more crimson liquid from seeping out.
the door opens and you find your grandma knitting something on the couch, she’s also watching something on the tv. the quality of the video playing on the screen is pretty rough, but you can make out a familiar face: your late grandpa. grandpa was grandma’s everything and from what you’ve heard: he’s a sweet, memorable soul. a smile spreads across your face as you watch your grandma continue to knit. a few seconds later you’re trying to sneakily run to the bathroom to clean up the mess on your legs.
“y/n? is that you?” she calls out softly, turning in your direction. usually, she’d be at the little bakery she worked at, but she wasn’t, so you assumed she had worked the morning and lunch shifts. she looks down at your red knees and her eyes widen. “oh! sweetheart, what happened?” 
she drops whatever she’d been knitting down on the cushion and rushes over to you, cupping your face and then kneeling to meet your injuries. her eyebrows crease and she frowns, worry is painted all over her face.
“i bumped into someone and tripped on the curb.” you lie, knowing you had heard snarky remarks in between voice cracks from some idiots beforehand.
“what did i say about lying?” your grandma sighs, rubbing the area around one of the scrapes and sighing. “did those boys give you a hard time again?”
“i—” you start, but she looks at you and raises her brows, making your second lie die in your throat immediately. you gulp and avoid eye contact. “well i got pushed and i’m not lying about tripping on the curb. i got unlucky.”
grandma clicks her tongue twice and shakes her head, then grabs your hand and leads you to the small bathroom of your little apartment. 
she closes the lid of the toilet and urges you to sit down on it. while you situate yourself, she finds a little first-aid kit in the cabinet and a few sanitizing wipes. you gulp, already uneasy about the pain that you’ll feel in the next minute.
your grandma chuckles in that raspy, cliché old lady tone when she sees your clenched jaw and fingers digging in your knee anxiously. she sighs and kneels down to meet your level, then says, “it’ll hurt a little, be strong for me.” 
“i’m not scared.”
“sure you’re not hon. it’s going to sting a lot, but it’ll pass by in no time, ‘kay?” she says, taking out an alcohol wipe and holding it above the scrape on your left knee. she holds your right hand and smiles sweetly—it calms you down in no time. “i’m going to clean it, be strong.” she says, then begins to wipe away the bacteria from the wound.
you close your eyes tightly at the stinging sensation, it hurts a lot and tears well up despite your eyes being shut. grandma squeezes your hand tightly then throws the wipe away.
“there you go, one knee done.” she says, “you’re strong like your grandpa, you know?”
your brows relax and you look at her, tilting your head. “i—, i am?”
“he boxed until he was 42, you were around the age of 4 then.” she explains, smiling as she reminisces. she grabs another wipe and tightens her grip on your hand again before you feel that same pain again, and continues, “he had a lot of injuries like these ones. i took care of him like this.”
through clenched teeth you respond, “he got hurt worse than this?”
“five times worse.” grandma shivers, “blood from his lips, mostly bruises on him though. i stitched him up once and i almost threw up.” she says, cringing when she recalls this memory. “he got cut up a couple of times and complained and groaned much more than you, actually. he got in a lot of fights, but he promised that he’d get into fewer fights when we had to take care of you.”
“oh, were you okay with taking care of him so much? it must’ve been tiring to always do that for him.”
grandma’s expression softens and she smiles. “when you love someone, taking care of them is never a problem. i love you y/n, and your grandpa; taking care of you two is nothing of a problem. maybe it’s rotten work for some people, but for the people i love? never.”
her sweet smile makes your own lips curl up and she pats your leg softly before finding bandages. as she patches you up, her words linger in your mind and heart.
“you know y/n, i won’t be here forever.” she starts, standing back up to put the kit away. “when you grow older i want you to find someone who will take care of you like that, and it’s your job to take care of them too.”
“i can take care of you when i’m older.” you say it like a promise and she shakes her head.
“i don’t want you to worry about my old soul for the majority of your life. i’m talking about a friend, or maybe more. whoever it is, care for them endlessly.”
you nod. 
she smiles once more and chuckles, “come on, let’s go watch one of your grandpa’s fights—i was watching some of it before you got here.”
you follow her out the bathroom and turn off the light, then you two head back to the living room. she sits down on the couch and urges you to squeeze in with her as she picks up her needles and yarn. you sit beside her and she presses a button on the remote, which starts the video back up again.
as you watch, you recognize the familiar figure on the screen jump around on his feet. he holds his arms up and clenches his fists in the boxing gloves, shooting the opponent a nasty glare through the small space in between.
“your grandpa was a great boxer, he spent a lot of time devoted to the sport.” grandma explains.
you hum and ask, “why did he box? doesn’t it hurt?”
“well, he did it to protect himself and make some money for us back when times were rougher, way before you were born. he was passionate about it.”
“that’s cool.” you say in awe. your grandma laughs softly before starting to knit again.
you watch your grandpa dodge a few punches and a swing from the side quickly, he’s fast and your 13-year-old mind is absolutely bewildered by his athletic ability. the opponent throws another punch, which he dodges, then sends a nasty hit to the side of the other boxer’s torso. the opponent stumbles back and falls to his knees, then bends down while he tries to recover. it takes a bit for the other guy to get up, and when he does get up—he stumbles back down.
“i want to be like grandpa, can i learn to box?”
your grandma laughs and grins at you. “you know what—sure y/n, you’re a lot like him after all. besides, you need to defend yourself from whoever pushed you.”
“oh yeah, i punched him in the face.”
“you what?” your grandma asks, shocked by your reply. you shrug and keep your eyes on the screen: your grandpa had won after a hit to the guy's cheek, and now the camera is on his sweaty, smiling self. 
“he pushed me and i punched him, but that’s because he said something really bad…”
“y/n,” grandma starts, but stops after she takes another good look at you and her late lover on the screen. a small breath leaves her lips, then she shakes her head. “you two are practically the same, huh.”
the rest of the night your grandma shares anecdotes of her time with your grandpa, it ranges from a variety of silly stories: your grandpa’s first fight, how they fell in love (and this story elicited a slight face of disgust from you, a playful one of course. you couldn’t deny that it was cute, but you were also 13 and icky about a lot of romantic things), grandpa’s fights out of the ring, and their most memorable moments with you. 
you find out that a lot of your traits are rooted from your grandpa, you were pretty satisfied with that.
-
years pass, you’re not stuck in that shithole called middle school; instead, you’re a junior in high school—still in a shithole, but a little better—yuck.
you’re already pretty sick of high school, freshman year wasn’t the best for you after realizing you liked girls; well, it was alright until your first heartbreak or whatever. 
it was cliché: you made a good friend, she was sweet and friendly, and then you realized that your heartbeat would pace at an unhealthy speed around her. the two of you get into a relationship and it eventually fails, your heart breaks and blah blah blah it’s a universal experience. you managed to get over this heartbreak after a year. besides, you can’t be stuck on one failed relationship for the entirety of high school, that’s a fool’s biggest mistake. 
and you’re not a fool.
grandma get’s sick sophomore year, and grandma is all that you have. it was an unexpected turn, resulting in one of the worst years of your life.
the doctors said it had something to do with her heart, some type of cardiovascular disease that costs a bit to treat. so, as soon as you turned 15, you found yourself a part-time job at a local restaurant to pay for her medicines and treatment while she tried her best to provide you with a stable foundation for the future, or at least some food, a house, and water. grandma had argued that she didn’t need your help, she scolded you and tried to keep you focused on your studies, but you wouldn’t budge; if anything, you argued back.
twenty-four hours in a day, and yet it wasn’t enough time to do everything you needed without sacrificing some of your sanity.
six of those hours were spent sleeping, seven hours were spent in school, eight hours at work right after, and then a few hours to care for grandma—and do a little bit of boxing; nothing got in the way of your passion, especially if that passion kept your grandpa alive. 
ever since that little moment with grandma and her cleaning up your knees, your interest in your grandpa and boxing piqued; you started to push yourself physically after hearing about the contests and tournaments, ones that had prizes worth more than one shift of working.
 it was difficult – boxing, working, going to school – with grandma’s illness, but your passion was just as great as your grandpa’s and the more you developed to become more like him: the more grandma would smile. that was the product you yearned for, and all your devotion (plus your similar features) only made the image of your grandpa increasingly prominent when she looked at you.
boxing made the thought of her illness easier to bear, and that didn’t cost anything, instead it filled your pockets. so, you kept on going, replicating the moves in the old films of your grandpa, winning junior boxing matches and placing the films your grandma recorded next to the ones of your grandpa. 
even when you didn’t win matches, the tapes of you boxing were placed next to your grandpa’s. that was arguably ten times better than a trophy.
it was enough to ease the strain in grandma’s body, and that made you happy too.
--
a year passes and you’re still a part-time amateur cook at some local restaurant. you still smell like sauteed onions and garlic when you reach the door to the apartment and try to blindly reach for the keys to your home; it’s a bit late, you’re tired, and you want to shower then pass out as soon as you can.
the late evening moon cast a soft glow through the windows near the stairwell, creating a quiet atmosphere. you step inside and the air is filled with the comforting scent of vanilla, a lingering trace of grandma’s signature cookies—she must’ve known you’ve been craving something sweet lately.
the only sound that fills the quiet evening is the faint ticking of the clock reverberates throughout the apartment, and then it’s the sound of the door creaking as you close it. 
“i’m home," you called out, a habitual greeting as you kicked off your shoes. usually, you’d get a response—it was half past seven and typically, grandma would still be awake to greet you warmly—but silence lingered, only broken by the distant hum of the refrigerator.
worry pricked at your consciousness as you ventured further into the house. the hallway leading to the bedroom seemed unusually hushed. the gentle rustling of your grandma’s usual activities was conspicuously absent, she wasn’t even knitting in the living room while watching tv like she usually did. it was odd.
turning the corner into the bedroom, a gasp escaped your lips. you dropped your work bag and stood frozen in place, feeling your heart rate spike. there, lying on the carpet, was your grandma, and her face now bore the lines of pain. panic surged through your veins as you rushed to her side.
"grandma, what happened?" your voice trembled as you gently shook her shoulders, desperately hoping for a response.
grandma’s eyes were closed, her breathing erratic. the room seemed to close in on you as you fumbled for your phone, dialing 911 with trembling hands. the operator's calm instructions cut through the air as you listened intently, trying to focus on each word and compose yourself.
frantically, you performed cpr, guided by the dispatcher's voice, but the seconds felt like an eternity. the room blurred as tears welled in her eyes, mixing with the fear that gripped her heart. the paramedics were on their way, but time was slipping away. this could not be happening—not now, not here, not ever.
“please, god, please no. please stay with me, not you too.” you beg, feeling your face dampen.
as you continued the compressions, a heaviness settled in the room. the once warm and inviting space now felt suffocating. in those agonizing moments, your grandma’s fragile grip on life slipped away. it was clear that she was gone, and there was nothing you could do to help her this time.
--
there’s enough money for you to live in that apartment alone for two months. the first week was spent with you sleeping in, missing school, and staring into the ceiling blankly.
you haven’t gotten up in hours, you could hardly take care of yourself after grandma’s passing. 
after a few hours of simply laying down and feeling too much, yet nothing at all; you flip over on your side and catch sight of the framed picture of you and your grandma. your brows turn up slightly as you stare back at the picture. you turn to lay on your back again, closing your eyes and groaning. your heart aches, it’s all too much for you.
the sound of knocking elicits an exhausted sigh from you, and it takes you a moment to get up for the first time in hours. you trudge out of the bedroom and groan when a sudden headache hits you, it almost makes you stumble. the sight of the kitchen and untouched living room makes your shoulders sink, it looks the same as that life-changing night.
you unlock the door and twist the knob to open it; a taller man stands in front and looks up at you with a sincere smile. 
“ah, y/n, am i correct?” he questions. a smile pulls at his lips, his eyes soften upon observing you. “you’ve grown, you have your grandpa’s eyes.”
his voice is soft, you can tell he’s a well-spoken, dignified man just from the way he articulates his words. he's quite fit looking for his age, he seems about how old your grandpa would’ve been if he was still alive; a man with noticeable smile lines and hands that seemed to have experienced decades.
you try to respond and realize that it’s been a week since you’ve uttered something that wasn’t a cry. you resort to nodding; he seems to understand.
he smiles and scans you; it seems that he doesn’t care about your appearance or state at all. 
“my name is michael, i was a friend of your grandparents. i’m sorry for your loss.”
you stay silent, unable to speak. 
“i’m here because your grandma asked for a favor, a big one and it includes you.” he begins, “she knew her condition was getting worse and asked me to come here to talk to you.”
“what?” you croak, now curious of just who exactly this man is and his connections with not just your grandma, but also your grandpa. “you knew?” your voice cracks, your heart breaks.
“i can’t turn down a favor like this, not if your grandma is asking either.” he says, pursing his lips. his eyes scan the room, then they start to well up with water. “she wanted me to take you in and take care of you if anything happened to her, of course i’m willing to do that for her—you’re her family after all, and i owe a lot to the l/n’s. i didn’t know her time would come so soon.”
“what? who, who are you exactly? my grandma told you about her condition? what— how—”
“i was close with your grandparents. i’m someone who owes them everything.”
-
you move in with michael not so long after your first meeting, he warms up to you easily after spilling some anecdotes that threatened your last tears to spill.
it takes a while to grow accustomed to him, you’ve only ever been used to talking to your grandma freely.
michael is a man in his early 50s, younger than your grandparents. he’s a sweet, soft-spoken man that treated you like his own as soon as the two of you met. you learn that he boxed with your grandpa; michael learned everything from your grandpa and explains that your grandpa is the reason he can live normally now. 
something in the way that he talks about your grandparents and the way he looks at you explains a lot, you don’t know exactly what your grandparents did, but it seems like they were his biggest miracle.
he smiles at you when you settle in his house, then goes on to tell you that you remind him of your old man. michael is a generous guy, and though everything happened so fast—recovering from grandma’s death, moving in with this man you’ve never heard of, learning more about your grandparent’s relations, and too much more—you seem to ease into this new lifestyle.
what else could you do anyway?
the new home you’re in isn’t small; if anything, it’s actually quite large and spacious. his home is hours away from where grandma was and it was hard leaving everything behind, but with your situation, the most you could feel is grateful for having a place and person to stay with, and a way to keep you from drowning in misery.
it was also evident that there used to be someone who lived with him, a lover of some sort. the pictures on the wall give you a sense of how he was like when whoever that woman was accompanying him was around; he was a lively, beaming man back then. now, he’s a bit more mellow, but there’s still that slight charm.
-
michael offers you a job at his little restaurant that he manages—which you accept immediately, you owe him some labor, and honestly everything after what he’s done for you—everything goes well. 
he goes easy on you because of your recent loss, but still, he treats you like you’re his own. michael is quick to correct you, strict when he needs to be, and someone to rely on.
he’s impressed with your skills in the kitchen, enamored by how quick you are to learn recipes and cook them up. your bond grows quickly and easily, it helps you get over the loss.
when he finds you watching your grandpa’s old boxing matches on the couch a month after moving in, he decides to bring you to his little garage. he unveils the trophies that he’s collected over years of boxing and decides to give you a picture of him and your grandpa posing together. in the picture, they’re all sweaty and smiley, beaming so brightly that their teeth almost reflect the light. he insists that “you deserve it more, i never had a place to keep this anyway,” with a small smile that conceals his sorrow, then hands you the 8x6 photo.
you tell him about your background in boxing, your matches, wins, favorite moves, and that you used to teach yourself how to box because of grandpa.
he simply smiles, muttering something that sounds like a “you’re just like him.”
you learn how to box again for the first time in a while on some friday night. this time you really learn, it’s not from copying your old man’s combos on a screen; instead, it’s one-on-one lessons with his old friend. 
he teaches you a lot, beats you down and makes you get back up. despite getting knocked down, thrown around, and given harsh constructive criticism—you get up and try again, again, and again. the thrill of it all surges through your body again, giving you that adrenaline rush and burst of joy that you’ve been missing for a bit.
one month passes, then another, and now you’re learning how to box every weekend – sometimes on weekdays – running miles after school, pushing yourself all the time, and winning—growing. 
he teaches you his favorites combos, then your grandpa’s favorite ones that got him on one knee each time they sparred. you learn all the time, learn whenever you can despite the slight ache in your body and it’s always michael forcing you to take it easy to get rid of that slight pain. 
boxing takes over your mind and you’re set with cooking as your main job, so school was something you weren’t really set on, you figured that out after all your troubles. michael was okay with that—to your surprise—and you decided to devote your time into training and doing your best at the little restaurant you worked at.
time passes and you decide to put yourself up to the test and sign yourself up for matches. at first, they’re just for experience, and then you’re pushing yourself to win these triple digit checks—which you win proudly after making your way up the bracket and succeeding. you’re proud of yourself for these accomplishments, michael is too, he says that your grandparents would be proud as well and it makes you tear up.
everything was going well, and you had michael to thank for pulling you out of the harsh waters that tried to pull you down and drown you in your misery.
--
when everyone was starting out in college, you were opening up the restaurant and getting everything ready.
you graduated with a solid gpa of 3.4. your counselors were practically up your ass because of your lack of interest in going to college. they tried to persuade you by saying that it would be great for your future, they insisted that you could take culinary classes, boxing classes, etc; despite every effort and attempt, you wouldn’t budge. 
there was always that slight uneasiness that came with deciding not to go to college, but at the same time, you were set with how everything was right now; especially after seeing the elderly regulars that always came in for breakfast. one of them patted you on the back as you hung up the “welcome” sign and greeted you with a smile, saying “it’s nice to see you again y/n, as always.” 
this type of lifestyle kept you smiling, there was not much to complain about other than the rare rude customer that would pass by here and there. you were content to say the least.
-
a few months before you turn nineteen, you decide to move out because there’s a small feeling that you may be a slight burden to michael, plus, the area is not bad and the rent is cheap. he assures that you can stay for however long, but you assure that you can hold up on your own. 
the place you decide to settle in is a thirteen-minute run from michaels place and a ten-minute walk from the restaurant you work at. robert says he’s proud that you’ve grown to be independent and strong.
(you laugh because you’ve simply moved out and decided to live on your own. plus, you live near him and work most of your shifts with him too, but you let him hug you dearly). 
you stay in a single-bedroom apartment that has a nice, small kitchen area littered with trinkets you’ve collected and small plants here and there. the living room is homey and has a single couch with a small coffee table in it that you gives you a view of the small market that goes on every sunday in the distance. you love the place. 
it gets lonely some nights, coming home to a silent house. grandma pops up in your mind and part of you (all of you) wishes that you’d come home to the smell of home cooked food and a smile that emphasizes her wrinkles. grandma hated her wrinkles, but you loved them. a few wrinkles never hurt anyone.
-
you huff, taking off the bandana on your head. “i’m clocking out, see you tomorrow.” 
“wait! michael has something for you in the back. uhh--” aki, the junior in high school that works part time, begins. you pause in your tracks, bag over your shoulder. “hold on let me--”
“c’mon, i'm running a little late for the match. i need to get checked in.” you say hurriedly, “just tell him i'll get it later--”
“no, y/n, it’s important. he said to get it to you today.”
with a deep sigh, you give in, watching him put away the plate he was washing and quikcly running to the back where the lockers are. you follow him in and watch him take out a small box with a little paper on it. it's a pretty big box, maybe bigger than a shoe box.
“here,” he says, handing it to you. “michael says good luck and to open it before your match, he knows how important this one is. three hundred is a solid prize, he says you can do it.”
you smile at aki; he smiles back before running off and back to the kitchen. the box is held with your hands, subtle blisters scratching against the cardboard before you walk over to your car. 
when you’re in the driver's seat, you decide to let the box be your little passenger and see what's inside when you reach the address of the tournament. as soon as you do, the box is in your hands again. with your keys, you cut the tape that covered the openings, then eagerly opened the box like a little kid on christmas morning.
inside, there’s brand new boxing gloves. they're white, they’re fresh, and they’re the expensive ones michael caught you eyeing.
“son of a bitch.” you mutter, shaking your head with a grin playing on your lips. 
you get out your old white mazda with a bag hung on your shoulder, new gloves inside.
there's a man at the front checking you in, his appearance slightly older with hair parted in the middle and a somewhat distraught expression on his face, almost disgust. maybe he just... looks like that. 
there's a hint of attitude in his tone when he asks, "you're here for the match?" 
“yes.”
“you’re late, you know? boxers should’ve checked in ten minutes ago, visitors--”
“i’m here now.” you say calmly, looking at him apologetically. “sorry for being late, i rushed from work. i already submitted my medical information and id online, it should be good to go, i got the email. it's l/n y/n by the way, i should be on the roster--”
he snaps his fingers at you, earning a raised brow from you. your teeth grind against each other as you clench your jaw from the sudden action.
“don’t cut me off when i'm speaking. i could have you out of the match as a whole, you know?” he scoffs, glaring at you. “you boxers are so damn impatient, and to think that you’re a woman too... i would’ve figured you had better manners.”
“i’m-- im sorry?” you’re shocked by the sudden disrespect, fighting back the urge to jab his face. “um, sorry. am i still able to check in?”
he narrows his eyes at you, sighing, but still giving you a little snarky tone even as he hands you your name tag and . “fine. go down the hall and to the left, there’s the locker rooms and whatnot. you know, you’re lucky i don’t--”
“thank you sir, have a good one.” is what you say, because you trained two months for this tournament and you can’t get disqualified now if you had let out that: “fuck you, bitch.”
you dash past him, speed walking towards the changing rooms to get yourself situated and weighed in. he almost curses at you, but you’re already too far in for him to stop you anyway.
--
you make weight, meaning you get to indulge in whatever it was that you grabbed from the convenience store.
in this case it was one protein bar – cookie dough, your favorite – some fruits, an avocado, and a few crackers. a decent amount of nutrition to keep you up on your toes for the matches.
michael's little gift to you fits snug, your hands fit perfectly in them, but you should definitely break them in before sparring—so you resort to using your usual gloves, the same ones that won you the last tournament's prize. it's fine anyway, they’re your lucky ones until you break in the new.
the first girl you take on is feisty; she’s quick on her feet and clearly has some type of anger issue from the way she curses at you quietly, sending daggers with that look of hers. it seems that you piss her off the more level you are, and honestly, it’s amusing to see her continuously jab and jab with fury until you decide to step to the side quickly and give a solid swing. 
she stumbles back, losing her composure before gritting her teeth. 
then she’s light on her feet again, you’re still playing defense, simply observing as she shifts side to side. you let her punch your forearm and send a cross before seizing the moment, stepping to the left, and quickly sending a nasty hook to her body. 
she stumbles again, coughs, and falls down on her knees.
“l/n!” the referee shouts, holding your wrist and raising your arm up.
--
you have three more matches until your final round, the one that’ll determine if you win, but you have to get through all of them first.
the second round proves to be more challenging. the woman you're up against lands a nasty cross that connects squarely with your jaw, throwing you off balance for a split second. however, with attentive focus on each of her movements, you manage to anticipate her next move and swiftly counter with a hook to her side. the blow knocks her out, mirroring the outcome of your previous match.
the third round is even more difficult. the woman you're up against this time seems relentless, unleashing jabs and crosses and jabs and crosses and jabs—wow, she won’t give you a break. you're constantly dodging, weaving side to side, but she refuses to give you a moment's respite. another blow lands on your jaw again, causing you to stumble back and exhale sharply, feeling the impact reverberate through your body.
as you try to regain your footing, she continues to press the attack, landing blows to your forearms as you desperately block, trying to find an opening to mount a counterattack. despite your best efforts, she seems to have you on the ropes, leaving you struggling to keep up with her relentless assault.
but still, as you always do, you manage to swerve and find your opening. after all that effort, she has to recover for a second. a second is more than enough time to step and switch angles, sending your infamous hook and leaving her on the ground, almost in fetal position, and groaning.
the fourth round is tough, really tough. the girl you’re up against is shorter, but wow is she bulky. 
she’s buff, biceps bigger than yours, almost as if an orange had been placed in them. her shoulders were like rocks and tensed as she put her arms up a bit. you had a decent amount of muscle, pretty nice definition and whatnot—but compared to her? it was like a shrimp and a lobster put next to each other. no way she was in your weight class, could she really be?
your arms steady as you get ready to fight, waiting for the cue and as soon as the ref gives you the green light, you’re light on your feet again. she throws a jab at you, grazing your forearm as you step back. then a cross is thrown at you, another jab, and a punch to the side that lands on your shoulder. her hits are as strong as she looks, it hurts. 
you manage to throw a jab that hits her forearms, then land an uppercut that strikes the side of her jaw. she lets out a sharp breath as soon as it hits, then curses under her breath. she looks at you with a death glare, then steps forward and to the side, managing to land a nasty hit right on your abdomen, then cheek, making you fall back against the rope.
she chuckles, making you take a deep breath. 
your feet move quick, inching in on her as you sway from side to side, giving her no room to strike at you. and then, just when you find an opening, you land a nice hook with your right—less precise and powerful, but still enough—and she falls back. 
she gets back up again—not without halting a few of her actions—then shakes her head. she throws a cross at you, which you dodge easily since her reach is on the shorter side. this gives you another opportunity to land a hit right on her jaw, and with that final move, she’s on the ground, and you win.
a smile reaches your face once the referee lifts your arm up, but there’s still that last match.
there's some time before finals, you take the time to rest a bit, chugging down a bit of water and wiping away some of the sweat on your body.
you sit down on one of the benches, leaning against the wall and recollecting yourself. the though of your grandma crosses your mind before you’re interrupted by a high pitched voice in the corner of your ear.
“yunjin! i'm so sorry i'm late, i had to finish moving in some things and--”
“it’s fine, seriously. i'm glad you made it.”
you glance over, seeing two women interact. one is obviously a boxer–one that you haven’t seen yet–probably your opponent for the final round. 
she's all sweaty, strands from her hair glued to her forehead from the sweat. she's pretty built, maybe a little smaller than you are muscle-wise, but still, the definition on her arms and abs are no joke. 
the woman next to her, dressed in a simple long-sleeve shirt and jeans, is beaming at her with a wide smile. her eyes sparkle with joy and happiness and rainbows, there’s an infectious energy that seems to radiate off of her. it's funny how bright she is; you can't help but be reminded of old videos of your grandma with grandpa, where similar warmth and happiness seemed to fill the frame.
“how many more matches do you have left? did you win any yet? gosh i missed so much, didn’t i?”
the taller one shakes her head, the boxer. “it’s fine, the rest were pretty difficult, but this is the round that should be the most important. it's the last one, i'm going up someone really good, i saw her--” she catches you from the side of your eye, which prompts you to look away and start to stand up.
the other woman, the one that looks a little like an eager bunny, looked towards where the boxer was looking. catching your last swift look over to the pair before you walk away.
now, yunjin, your last opponent, tenses her jaw.
“was that her?” yunjin’s friend asks.
“most definitely.” yunjin mumbles nervously.
--
you step into the ring, tilting your neck over to crack it just slightly.
your oppenent swings her arms slightly, dynamically stretching again to ease her nerves. you look her up and down, taking a deep breath before you step into the middle of the platform.
the two of you make eye contact, comparable to cowboys pointing pistols at each other before a duel. you look away first before the referee puts his hand in the middle, then lifts it up to cue the start of your match.
slowly circling the ring, you observe her movements. her arms react quick to how yours move, twitching and moving a bit in order to match your rhythm. she's attentive, very attentive, you can tell just by how quick she’s able to react and adjust.
you throw a cross, she backs away immediately and misses, then throws a punch right at you, hitting your forearm. a grunt is heard from you, then a sharp breath as you jab her forearm in return. 
“jen! you can do it!” the voice from earlier calls out, you can’t afford to look over, but it’s that girl. the one who had been accompanying your opponent earlier.
a small smile forms on your opponent's lips before she launches into a flurry of punches aimed directly at you. you raise your forearms in a desperate attempt to block them from reaching your face, but she manages to find an opening. stepping to the side, she delivers a rear uppercut to your jaw once again, causing a sharp surge of pain to shoot through you. it hurts even more than before, the sensation amplified by the previous blows.
you grunt out in pain, feeling the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth as you watch droplets fall onto the platform below. despite the searing pain and the mounting pressure of the match, you force yourself to regain your composure. your brows crease with determination as you shake your head, breathing in and out slowly.
now it's your turn to unleash a boatload of punches. several of them land squarely on your opponent's forearms, but you manage to find an opening and deliver a powerful blow right to her stomach, causing her to gasp out in pain. despite her reaction, you continue your assault relentlessly, delivering punch after punch to the side of her arms and the forearms covering her head. each blow is delivered with precision and determination, as you refuse to let up until the match is won.
but your opponent still perseveres, somehow finding a way to get out of the corner and land a jab right where your ribs are. she's quick, that’s for sure, always managing to find her way out of situations.
you cough out, stumbling backwards and almost falling down to your knees. she looks at you, huffing proudly as you find your balance. 
“tough,” you hear her mumble, so quiet that you almost mistook it for a whisper.
the two of you go at it again, trading blows and dodging many of them. yunjin manages to land a solid hit on the side of your arm, causing a sharp sting, but you fight back with a well-placed strike right on her tricep. despite the back and forth, the pace slows as both of you focus on dodging each other's attacks, slowing down the more fatigued you both get.
yunjin suddenly lands a powerful hit that causes your arms to push your head to the side. you watch as drops of blood litter the ground once again, but even as pain flares through you, you grunt and pull yourself together.
“c’mon yunjin!” the voice cheers again, that same voice.
just because this “yunjin” has supportive spectators, doesn’t mean you don’t have one watching from above.
the thought of your grandma urges you to act swiftly, moving so quick that you manage to fake her out and strike your signature final move.
turning to the left to regain your footing, you quickly pivot back and swing your arm with precision, landing a harsh blow on her side. the impact is so fatal that it nearly elicits a cry from her—a mix of a cough and a groan—as she staggers backward before collapsing to the ground.
despite the fatigue and pain coursing through your body, and the blood flowing down your nose and to the edge of your chin, none of it bothers you anymore; you’ve won. it’s clear.
you watch as yunjin kneels on the ground, groaning and huffing as she tries to fight back the pain. with both fists planted firmly on the ground, she uses the gloves to support herself, unable to look back up as she coughs, desperately trying to regain her composure and recover from the left hook to her side.
your eyes meet the ref’s eyes, then your brows raise to ask the question “is it over?” but you already know the answer: it is.
the referee helps yunjin up, you don’t bat an eye at her.
standing in the middle of the ring waiting for her, you make full eye contact with her little friend, a look of worry and anger plastered on the woman’s face. you feel a little bad, just a little (but not really), but it’s a competition, it’s nothing to worry about – you’ve won.
still, in that moment, you're caught off guard by how familiar this woman looks, her features bearing a slight resemblance to michael’s. but you quickly push the thought aside, it's not important. what matters is the referee raising your hand up in victory and yelling out your name.
“y/n!”
-
when yunjin gets down from the ring, a few moments after you’ve already stepped off; her friend is already by her side to make sure she’s okay.
“yunjin! oh my gosh, are you okay?”
“yes, hanni, it’s fine.” yunjin assures, clutching her right side. “hell of a hook...”
if it weren’t for those gloves of yours, yunjin would have a prominent bruise right on the skin covering her ribs. hanni frowns at her state before someone comes over to hand yunjin a towel and a water bottle. 
hanni catches you in the corner of her eye as you stand there, sweaty and looking at the ground. a towel is handed to you, and you quickly use it to wipe away the blood on your face. then you look up at the ceiling, closing your eyes as if trying to gather yourself and stem the flow of blood trickling down your face.
“do matches usually end like that?” hanni asks.
“what?”
“like that. someone's hand is raised and then they just... walk off the stage?”
yunjin thinks to herself as she chugs on water. “well, i mean, usually we exchange a few words and stuff, but i guess who i just fought is more... blunt? reserved?” yunjin shakes her head, “it's not that big of a deal, really. she's bleeding anyway, i understand.”
“that’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”
“well, it’s not like she’s actually trying to hurt me for like, terrible reasons. there's a cash prize she wants and she won it.” yunjin shrugs defeatedly.
as you sniffle slightly, you turn to the side, locking eyes with hanni. your look gives the impression of a glare; your eyes narrow, and your expression remains unyielding. it's as if you're sending arrows of scrutiny towards hanni and yunjin. hanni can't help but feel unsettled by the way you hold yourself and the implicit judgment in your gaze. she's not one to judge easily, but your demeanor leaves her feeling a bit wary and cautious.
hanni watches you walk off, wiping a small drop of blood off your jawline, rubbing it off on your towel.
yunjin looks in the same direction as hanni, muttering something under her breath.
“she’s real tough, that’s right.”
--
you walk over to the cafe nearby, you need a little treat after winning, that’s what you deserve.
walking up to the cashier, you order a slice of strawberry shortcake, one latte, and a cookie for later. it’s a quick little action, once you’re done purchasing you head out the door, hearing a little jingle. 
as you walk down the sidewalk, you check your little bag to make sure the container of your cake isn’t tilted, and in the moment, you bump into someone. the coffee in your hand slips and lands on the person in front of you.
a curse slips out your lips, some of the coffee manages to land on your shoulder and upper right side of your chest. you groan, not looking up at the person in front of you and instead crouching down to pick up the bag you’ve just dropped.
“you’re not even going to bat an eye at her?” a voice scoffs from above, you look up to spot two familiar faces: one, the last girl you had knocked out and two, her little friend. “did the win make you so dense?”
“hanni relax, it’s fine–”
“no! she barely batted an eye at you after she won! shouldn’t boxers have more sportsmanship?”
the boxer above you puts a hand on the shorter girl’s shoulder, trying to cool her down as you stand up. the girl you had beat earlier – yunjin – she looks at you and tightens her jaw, hesitating before looking away.
“i’m, i’m sorry for that, for my friend.” she apologizes. you examine her more, noticing that only a bit of coffee landed on her t-shirt and the rest had spilt on you and the ground – it wasn’t that big of a deal. “it’s a small stain, the shirt is navy. sorry for your coffee.”
before you can respond, the shorter woman looks at yunjin confusedly, then pushes her back a bit so that she’s standing closer to you. she has to look up a bit, tilting her head as she meets your unbothered gaze.
“no, yunjin, she should apologize.” the woman spits, “you bump into my friend and spill coffee on her–”
“it’s barely anything–” yunjin butts in, but her little friend puts a finger to her lips.
“you better apologize, that win didn’t make you any better than anyone you’ve beat.” 
you look the girl up and down, then at yunjin who’s looking regretful and slightly embarrassed. you fix the slice of cake in your bag, catching the shorter girl looking at you like you’re crazy, then sigh out tiredly. 
“hey, yunjin, right?”
she nods, then hums, “yeah.”
you glance back at her friend, shrinking her down with just your eyes. you catch the way her jaw tightens and the flicker of fear in her eyes.
“tame your little friend, ‘kay?” you firmly say, then brush past the two of them.
hanni cannot believe her eyes, or anything. how can someone be so arrogant? 
she watches you casually walking off with an empty coffee cup in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other; her brows crease with anger as she starts to storm towards you, hearing yunjin’s attempts at verbally stopping her fading in the back.
you feel someone tugging at your flannel from behind, gasping lowly before turning around to meet yunjin’s little friend again.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“relax.”
“apologize.” she grips your forearm, taken aback from how firm the muscles in that area are. uncertainly, she adds, “now.”
you look her up and down again, amused by the sight. some girl – who is shorter and smaller than you – is trying to hold you – the person who just knocked her friend out – back in an attempt for some stupid, haste ‘apology.’
“what are you going to do if i don’t?” you ask, partly because you’re curious and the other reason being that this is far too entertaining. “punch me? throw a hook? what are you, 5 feet tall?”
“five feet and three inches you ass!” 
“uh huh.” you sigh, shaking her hand off with your forearm. “fuck off.”
hanni watches you walk away again, before she can walk after you, yunjin grabs her and holds her back – this time with all her strength, the rest that she has left after those matches. hanni shouts at you through gritted teeth, yunjin puts a hand over her mouth and scolds her for being an idiot.
“are you crazy?”
“she’s an ass!”
“yeah but… stop making a scene! you just moved here, don’t go starting shit on your first day.”
“but she’s–”
“hanni.” yunjin turns her around and places both hands on either shoulder, looking her dead in the eye and then shaking her head tiredly. “can we just grab something to eat, i’m so fucking tired.”
yunjin’s best friend rolls her eyes before making a small “hmph” noise, crossing her arms before walking towards the cafe that you had just left.
hanni grabs a post fight meal with yunjin, then takes multiple photos at some random photobooth in a mall nearby, and finally gets dropped off at where she’s staying thanks to yunjin, considering the fact that hanni has nothing but a bus pass – not even a metro card.
hanni enters the house, smelling the wonderful aroma of what she believes is garlic and onion being sauteed in the kitchen. she smiles, happy that her grandpa is home and cooking up something delicious.
she kicks off her shoes, then starts to walk over to the kitchen, only to see someone turned to the stove – a tall, athletic, toned, and feminine looking back – someone that is not her grandpa. 
immediately, she gasps, then covers her mouth. she watches the figure turn, then takes her hand off her mouth to gasp again.
“what the hell are you doing in my house?”
“what the hell are you doing here?”
“this is my house?!” hanni exclaims, her voice laced with confusion and a hint of fear. technically, it isn’t really hanni’s house, but through family ties, it might as well be. “get out! are you fucking—are you stalking me? is this because of before? what, are you going to punch me or—”
her breath catches, words failing her as you step forward, closing the distance between you two. you’re in her space now, forcing her to tilt her head up slightly to meet your narrowed gaze. the intensity in your eyes makes her breath hitch again, and she’s keenly aware of how scrutinizing your stare is. she takes in your sharp, intimidating presence, noting how your eyes bore down on her from above. you’re nearly a head taller, clearly stronger, your tank top revealing the evidence of your hard work, while she’s standing there in the casual, unassuming attire of an average college student. she would be lying her ass off if she said she wasn’t scared right now.
“i’m not going to pick a fight with someone like you,” you state, looking her up and down, your tone dripping with condescension. the height difference, the bandage on your nose from the matches you won; everything about you screams physical superiorty, and hanni feels a flare of anger. but even though she’s willing to fight, you’re making it clear that you don’t see her as a threat.
“the hell does that mean you bitch?”
you move your head slight closer so you’re up in her face, letting out a small, amused chuckle. 
“watch your mouth.”
“how about you learn personal space!” hanni groans, using her hand to push your shoulder lightly as she steps back and furthers the distance between you two. “where are your manners?”
“you really wanna start something again?”
“shut the hell up, you’re the one in my place.”
“this is michael’s place.” you correct her. “you don’t look anything like him,” well, she does have his eyes and nose. “do you even know him?”
“the hell? of course i know michael, he’s my grandpa you sack of shit!” hanni scoffs, crossing her arms angrily. 
your brows furrow and you retreat back just a bit. “he’s your what?”
“my–” before hanni finishes her sentence, you two turn your heads to the sound coming from behind the stairs. both of you watch an older man appear with two bags of groceries and a surprised look on his face as soon as he spots you two. 
he looks between you both, grin growing as he approaches the two of you. “oh! i see you two have met!”
“michael, who is this?”
“grandpa, who–”
“ah, i should’ve introduced you two, or given a little heads up.”
a heads-up would’ve been great. 
you’re standing just a foot away from the girl who tried to pounce on you outside a café, the same girl who had to be restrained by her friend—the friend you knocked out cold. and now, as fate would have it, like the universe thinks you’re some type of joke, she turns out to be the granddaughter of the man who helped you get back on your feet. 
a warning would’ve been more than just great, but it’s kind of – very – late to give one.
“well, y/n, this is hanni, my granddaughter, and hanni, this is y/n. do you remember the l/n’s? she’s their granddaughter!”
hanni blinks, her jaw dropping. the l/n’s, as in the l/n’s who saved her grandpa from some gang years before she was born, the same l/n’s that let him stay at their place during his earuly adult years, the same l/n’s he would talk about like they were some type of saviors. 
the same so called ‘saviors’ who’s descendant had been a bitch at in the cafe.
“oh.” hanni says, looking back at you and tightening her jaw. “really now?” she says softly, trying to let the information sink in.
“yes! why don’t you guys introduce each other.” he suggests. you look back at hanni like he’s just told some unbelievable, sick lie. she looks at you with grossed out features, as if you had some type of disease. “come on now,” he walks over to hold both your wrists, bringing you two closer and moving your hands over so they make contact. 
hanni stares at the hands in disgust, and you mirror her.
you sigh before loosely grabbing her hand and shaking it, greeting lowly, “nice to meet you hanni.”
she grips your hand tight in an attempt to intimidate you, but it’s nothing, barely half a kilogram of force. “nice to meet you y/n.”
you squeeze her hand just barely, earning a gasp from her and barely containing a laugh, only flashing an amused smile at the now annoyed woman in front of you.
michael smiles at the two of you, clearly missing the tension and obvious rivalry in the air before saying, “glad you two are getting along. hanni here is moving in, she’s going to the university nearby.”
“is that so?” you raise a brow at hanni, she pulls her hand away and shakes it off like a virus is on her hand. 
“yeah, nursing.”
“i bet they’d love your little self there, huh?”
hanni bites her lip in an attempt to hold herself back from cursing at you. she opts for smiling at her grandpa and saying, “hey, i’m going to unpack now gramps, okay?”
“right! i forgot, you should definitely do that. hey, y/n, why don’t you help her out?”
“me?” 
“her?” hanni asks, earning another offended glare from you. “i’m fine, really.”
“no, no, your luggage is quite heavy – and a large load. go on now, you two can bond while i make dinner,” he says cheerfully, pushing you two in the direction of the stairs. “have fun!”
you and hanni are fighting every single demon and voice in your heads in order to not to insult each other. you stand at the entrance of the guest bedroom, looking at the three boxes on the ground in front of the empty bed. hanni sighs, starting to unzip the suitcase that she rolls from the corner.
“you a hoarder or–?”
“shut up.” hanni spits, opening her suitcase and unpacking her clothes onto the bed. “you piss me off.”
“because i spilled coffee on your friend?”
“well you were a bitch about it.”
“it wasn’t that serious, it’s never that serious.”
“you won that fuckass tournament and now you think you’re better than her–”
“i never said that��”
“shut up!” hanni groans, turning around to glare at you. you tilt your head and she groans again, “make yourself useful with you boxer muscles and move the boxes on the ground out of the way.”
“now you need my help.”
“i’ll fuck you up just you watch.”
“yeah, right.” you snicker, looking her up and down as you lean against the doorframe. “i’m terrified.”
“make yourself useful you asshole.” hanni orders, turning back to stack a pile of shorts on the bed.
you roll your eyes, sighing loudly as you walk over, bend down, and lift a box that’s a bit heavier than you’d like to admit. nonetheless, you manage to pick it up, then put it on the desk in the room.
“jesus christ,” the box lands with a little thud and you huff lightly. “you got all that anger inside you in here or…?”
hanni doesn’t respond, instead, she kicks the back of your leg with her foot. you simply laugh, making her kick you again.
“it’s your ego in there, idiot.”
“uh huh.” you click your tongue against the back of your teeth, turning back to help her out more. 
hanni has settled in well, though that’s unfortunately thanks to your help—help you were more or less forced to provide. moving everything in, showing her around the area, it’s all because you couldn’t say no when michael looked at you with that signature proud smile. 
the two of you exchange few words during what you loosely call a ‘tour.’ really, it’s just you walking her around the neighborhood, pointing out the nicer spots and which neighbors are the biggest complainers, before leading her to the bus stop. hanni, for her part, stays curious, her eyes roaming over anything that catches her interest, offering small smiles to the passerbys and throwing grimaces at you. 
you show her around downtown, just around her campus for a bit, making sure not to bump into her again after you two had made the wrong step and accidentally bumped shoulders.
“are you picking a fight?” hanni asks, turning fully to face you, her eyes narrowing as she sizes you up.
“i’d rather jump off that building over there,” you say, pointing to the ten-story structure looming in the distance. “--than lay a finger on you.”
“asshole.”
she rolls her eyes at you, scoffing in that way she always does when she’s annoyed. the way she looks in her oversized quarter-zip and sweatpants, with those big, clear frames perched on her nose, almost makes you laugh. there’s something oddly endearing about it, even if you won’t admit it out loud. the feeling is enough to tug a small smile to your lips, a quiet chuckle escaping before you can stop it. she looks like an idiot, a stupid, short idiot. 
hanni notices, of course, and pushes you with her shoulder, her expression a mix of irritation and something softer you can’t quite place.
you drop her off back at the house, handing her your spare key and watching her open the door. she unlocks it and the door opens just a bit, but before she steps inside, she turns to you.
hanni huffs quietly, then looks you in the eye. 
“thanks, i guess.”
“i guess?”
“yeah, i guess.”
“you’re welcome,” you say amusingly, looking down at her and analyzing just a bit. “i guess.”
she shakes her head and steps inside the house, you don’t step away until she’s fully inside and you hear the lock click.
the two of you don’t run into each other for a little over a week, but neither of you can stop thinking about the other here and there, despite how much it annoys you.
you’ve been busy with work, fixing up things around your apartment, and spending time with friends before they get caught up in the chaos of school. your days have been a mix of runs, training, and lifting weights at michael’s home, with the surprising bonus of not running into hanni. it’s been peaceful, almost too peaceful, but you’re not complaining.
hanni, on the other hand, has been getting settled into the town and adjusting to her new classes. she’s spent the week mingling with new people, going over her first few notes, and tweaking her schedule to make sure she stays on top of everything. she’s the type who thrives in a flexible routine, something that keeps her grounded and stress-free, so she’s been focused on creating that for herself. 
even though you haven’t crossed paths, the thought of each other lingers in the back of your minds, a low-level irritation (and maybe just a bit of infatuation) that neither of you can quite shake off.
the next time you run into each other, hanni is sitting at her desk, highlighting a few terms and studying some diagrams when she hears faint music and the rhythmic sound of something being hit, followed by the clinking of chains. at first, she perks up, curiosity piqued, but she dismisses it, turning her own music up to drown out the distraction.
but the noise doesn’t stop. in fact, it gets louder, the chains clinking so persistently that hanni finally gives in. she sets her highlighter down and gets up, irritation mixing with curiosity. she doesn’t see anything at first, just an open garage door across the way. so, she heads downstairs, still in her pajamas—an oversized t-shirt and old middle school gym shorts.
when she reaches the garage, she opens the door to find you, drenched in sweat, going at it with a punching bag. you’re throwing a series of rapid punches, each one landing with a solid thud, your breaths sharp and controlled. 
hanni stands there for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it all, the sight of you completely absorbed in your workout, the focus etched on your face as the chains rattle with each strike. 
then she shakes herself out of her trance, closing the door behind her loudly and earning your attention.
“what are you doing?”
you land one last blow to the sandbag before looking at her as you catch your breath. “what does it look like i’m doing, reading?” you ask sarcastically, feeling a drop of sweat drip off your chin.
“ugh,” hanni puts on a random pair of slides on the ground before walking up to you. “could you keep it down? i have to study, ever heard of that?”
“nerd.” you mumble, eyes narrowing at the frames she has on. “close the windows.”
“hot air rises.”
“fan?”
“y/n.” hanni groans. “some people are trying to get a degree.”
“and some people need some extra cash.” you retort, turning back and landing another blow at the bag. 
she groans again, shaking her head and biting her lip before she kicks your leg. you stop, turning back over with an annoyed look plastered on your face.
“could you please just lower the volume of your music down? and maybe close the garage door?”
“it’s hot in here.”
“it’s hot up there too, don’t be soft.”
you scoff, raising your eyebrows. “me? soft?”
hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, she looks irritated beyond measure – it’s really amusing. “i could care less if you have to fight later, i’m trying to do some work for uni and if you could just cooperate – please.”
you almost fight back – verbally of course, with some snarky comeback or something like that – but the genuine distress shown on her face makes you back down. you inhale sharply, then exhale slowly, looking out the garage door before you start to take off your gloves.
“fine, whatever.” you mumble before using your teeth to peel the velcro portion off. “i only practiced for twenty minutes but fine.”
hanni feels a twinge of guilt as she watches you angrily toss the gloves into the corner. she sees the way your hands slick back your damp hair, your movements rough and frustrated as you grab your bag. you wipe the sweat from your face with a towel, but her eyes are drawn to the way the light glistens off your back, the defined muscles highlighted by sweat and shadows. when you turn, hanni’s gaze catches on the hint of your abs peeking out from your tank top, and she quickly looks away, her jaw tightening as she forces herself not to stare.
her eyes wander to a photo pinned up on the garage wall. it’s of you and her grandpa, standing side by side. you’re smiling proudly, and he’s raising your hand in victory, a small medal clutched in your other hand. the sight makes hanni exhale, the irritation she felt earlier softening a bit.
before you can leave, she steps forward, stopping you in your tracks.
you turn to face her, looking at her questionably. “what?”
“hey,” hanni looks away, seemingly making up her mind about whatever she’s about to say or do. “i… i get home at around three if i’m studying after classes, that’s a better time to you know… do your stuff.”
“i work, hanni.”
“well, it was just a suggestion.” she looks at you intensely, eyes focused on yours. “or just… turn your music down… or something.”
“thanks for the suggestion, asshole.”
“hey!”
you can’t help but chuckle, a small smile accdientally forming before you put your poker face back on. “you’ll get used to it.”
“i hate you.”
“whatever, tell that to michael.” you add finally before flipping her off as you walk away; you hear hanni scoffing from behind.
you sneak in practice when hanni’s not home or when michael offers to help because there’s nothing better than taking out whatever you feel out on a punching bag or in the air. 
hanni is too preoccupied with work and her new friends to think about what a nuisance you are, but still, she finds time here and there everyday for you to pop up in her mind. she groans everytime your dumb face flickers in her brain, scoffing and shaking her head.
sometimes you even think of hanni, mostly when you’re in michael’s house and not getting scolded – for some reason, the absence of bickering with hanni and the hostility in the air makes you feel strange, almost like somethings missing despite your very little time with her.
neither of you bat an eye – this is a lie, both of you do, but as subtly as you can – when it comes to the thought of each other. it’s nothing, it can’t be.
minjeong kept you out, making you tag along with her little group of friends for dinner. all of you had barbeque and were laughing at the texts from aeri’s new talking stage.
it’s a boatload of cliche, sappy romantic lines that were probably found in a book he had picked up in the library. it’s oddly cliche and corny, things ranging from ‘you’re brighter than the sun, my love’ to ‘van gogh could never pain anything as beautiful as you’ and it has the whole table bursting out into laughter. sure, it was charming in its own way, but still, you cackled after watching jimin nearly spit out her beer after reading through all of it.
“jesus christ, who is this guy?” minjeong scoffs.
aeri sips on her drink, shrugging. “some guy in my statistics class, heeseung or something.”
“and you haven’t blocked him?” you chuckle, sipping on your soda. you were never a drinker despite your high tolerance, always opting for something without alcohol and being the token sober friend. “you’re stronger than me.”
“he’s cute! he’s just… icky over text. i swear he’s better in person. he’s like, super sweet and shit – in a frat too but he’s not like most frat guys.”
minjeong nudges your shoulder and looks at you with raised brows, you give her a knowing look and laugh to yourself. she leans over and mutters in your ear, “how much are you betting that they become official?”
“pftt, two weeks. aeri seems more than entertained, maybe enamored?”
“if it’s less than, you owe me twenty bucks.”
you roll your eyes, finishing your diet coke. “ass.”
“it’s a deal~” minjeong cheers before both of you return to the conversation, watching jimin give another judgy look after seeing his instagram. 
just then, your phone buzzes against the table and you turn to check it. there’s a text from michael, so you quickly look over to unlock your phone with your face and read the message; there’s something about michael asking you to take the morning shift instead of the evening, which makes you sigh. 
you love your friends, but michael and work have to come first sometimes.
“hey guys, i gotta go. sorry.” you sigh, picking up your little bag.
“what?” aeri whines, “it’s only eight?”
“i have to cover the morning, probably aki’s fault. i’m sorry – here.” you slap two ten dollar bills down, offering an apologetic smile. “it’s for the tip, use the other ten for dessert or something. sorry again, let’s hang next week?”
“ugh, fine.” minjeong groans before giving you a little side hug. she smiles at you and pinches your cheek, something all of your friends do since you’re the youngest of the bunch. “see you, asshole.”
“uh huh, fuck you too.” you joke, then wave to the rest. “bye.”
you walk out of the small barbeque restaurant and fix the tank top on your body, groaning at the small oil stain on the bottom of it. you sigh before continuing to walk down the road, fixing your hair as the wind messes it up.
your ear twitches when you hear a whistle, then a remark that makes your head turn.
“hey sweetheart, let me get a piece of that…” just the sound of it tells you it’s some drunkie, when you catch sight of three men, your assumption is proved correct.
“c’mon baby, don’t be shy now.” another one says, leaning against the wall as his other friend walks over to the woman passing by, tugging at her wrist lightly.
“hey, don’t be an ass, you’re too pretty to–”
you step forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the group. she looks at you, first confused, then with a flicker of gratitude as you motion for her to leave with a quick wave of your hand. she doesn’t hesitate, scurrying down the road while you turn back to face the three men in front of you.
their faces are flushed, a deep red from anger or alcohol—or maybe both. their hair is messy, beards scraggly and unkempt, and their eyes narrow as they take you in. one of them, bolder than the others, strides up and grabs your wrist. but you twist it sharply, making him wince and pull back with a pained groan.
“you wanna be a brave little bitch, huh?” he sneers, rubbing his wrist.
you shake his hand off and shove him back, your gaze hard and unflinching. his friends laugh darkly, stepping up beside him. they’re all taller, but not by much, and the height difference doesn’t faze you. you stand your ground, eyes locked on them with a cold intensity that makes their chuckles falter.
“look at you, you’re pretty too huh princess?”
“and you look like you were made with a quick nut.” you scoff stepping back as he steps forward.
“the hell did you say?”
“you heard me.”
he pokes the inside of his cheek before grabbing your wrist again, his grip tight enough so you can’t repeat your escape from his hold.
“oh, i’m gonna make you regret that, you little whore—” his threat is cut short as your fist connects with his jaw, snapping his head to the side. he groans, clutching his cheek and letting go of your wrist.
before you can catch your breath, his friend grabs your arm and slams you against the brick wall. your shoulder scrapes against the rough surface, tearing the skin and drawing blood. you try to push forward, but another man shoves you back, forcing you to hit the same spot again. the impact knocks the wind out of you, and you gasp, the pain sharp and immediate.
they surround you, blocking any view of the street. their smirks widen, and you can feel the danger closing in. but as one of them makes a move, you react instinctively, throwing a hook that catches him off guard and sends him stumbling back. his friends pause, shocked, before they turn to you, arms raised, fists clenched.
“so you think you’re tough, huh? that’s cute…” one of them slurs, stepping closer.
you don’t hesitate. you drive a jab straight into his chest, forcing the air out of him and making him stagger. the last man lunges at you, but you sidestep him, landing a solid blow to his jaw. he crumples, and you’re left standing, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you face the remaining two who are back up, ready for whatever comes next.
hanni is sprawled out on the couch, completely absorbed in the latest season of her favorite show. she’s nestled against the armrest, legs stretched out so far that her toes nearly graze the opposite end. her eyes are glued to the screen, knuckles brushing her lips as she watches the unfolding drama with bated breath. the sound of the door unlocking barely registers; she assumes it’s just her grandpa coming home.
“hi grandpa!” she calls out, not bothering to glance away from the screen. but instead of the usual warm greeting, there’s only the sound of the door closing with an unexpected force. that makes her pause. she hits the pause button and finally turns her head, eyebrows knitting together when she sees you heading toward the kitchen.
there’s something off about the way you move—your shoulders are slumped, and you lean heavily against the counter as soon as you reach it. it’s then that hanni notices the blood staining your shoulder, her eyes widening. she’s on her feet in an instant, rushing over in her oversized pajamas.
“y/n?” she gasps, her voice tight with concern as she takes in the sight of your scratched back, exposed by your tank top. “what happened?”
“nothing.” you lie, opening the cupboard and grabbing the first aid kit. 
“why are you so–” hanni catches herself before she insults you. “are you okay?”
“it’s just a scratch, go enjoy your show.”
“your shoulder is bleeding, and there are scrapes all over your back.” this is the first time hanni’s seen you in almost a month, and instead of you just showing up to exist and annoy her like usual, you’re battered and bruised. you’ve got blood seeping out from a cut on your shoulder, scratches on your jaw, and more dried blood on the edge of your nostril – probably from a prior nosebleed. there’s even a small cut on your neck, and overall, you look completely wrecked. hanni looks you up and down before pointing out the obvious, “this is not just a scratch.”
“thanks, sherlock,” you mutter as you tear open an alcohol wipe packet. “i got into a fight.”
“for money? how did gloves lead to this?” she asks, bewildered.
“no, not for money.” you wince as the alcohol stings your wound, but you keep going. “some guys were catcalling this woman... probably would’ve done worse to her if i hadn’t stepped in.”
“jesus… what happened after you stepped in?” hanni’s voice softens as she watches you closely, her eyes tracing the tension in your arm as you clean the wound.
“they pushed me against a brick wall and tried to fight me. it was three against one, but they were drunk. it wasn’t easy, but it’s handled. it’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off as you grab the nearest gauze and the biggest bandage you can find.
hanni makes a disgusted face, then it softens into something of worry.
you start to wash your hands and hanni can’t help but gaze at you for a while, you look back at her as your hands rub soap around, keeping eye contact and biting down on your teeth.
“you’re so fucking wreckless.”
“thanks hanni.” you say sarcastically, turning back to rinse your hands and shake them dry. “you’re so sweet.”
“why didn’t you just run? they were drunk and you’re–”
“asshole’s deserve bruises.” you answer. “i fight because i like to, and sometimes it’s necessary in situations like this.”
“do you like getting hurt?” hanni asks, “what the hell is wrong with you.” it unintentionally comes out harsh, surprising you both.
“oh, so i can’t fight drunk assholes who only think with their dicks? what the fuck is your problem? why do you care?” you snap, stepping closer to hanni, sizing her up. “you’re all ‘you piss me off’ until i do something that has nothing to do with you.”
“well!” hanni starts, her voice wavering as she takes in your expression, eventually backing down. “i don’t know, okay? it’s just… you’re hurt. i’m studying to work in a fucking hospital, so of course, i’m going to be bothered by an injury. you should’ve let it go.”
“then be bothered by other people’s injuries, not mine,” you reply, your voice stern as you look down at her, your gaze sharp. hanni shivers under your intense stare, breaking eye contact by shaking her head and scoffing quietly. you start packing up the first aid kit, your back to her as you add, “i’m staying in the room upstairs tonight. don’t come worrying your ass off.”
“fuck you,” hanni groans, crossing her arms defensively.
“go finish your show,” you mumble, brushing your shoulder against hers as you walk past without looking back. but hanni does—she turns around, catching you stomping towards the stairs in silence.
she pinches the bridge of her nose as she heads back to the couch, flopping down with a frustrated sigh. “see if i care…” she grumbles, resuming her show.
hanni tries to focus on the tension between the two leads on screen, but she can’t shake the tension between the two of you. it lingers, gnawing at her, and she finds herself angry at you but even angrier at herself. she can’t pinpoint why, but it frustrates her to the point of a near headache. 
hanni hates you, she hates how stupidly careless you are, how you’ve gotten hurt, and the fact that you’re making her worry.
she despises you.
-
your whole body is sore from what you had endured the night prior, but it doesn’t stop you from making a coffee in the morning. 
you lean against the counter and hold yourself up with your hand, clutching your shoulder with the other. it still hurts, it had hurt even more as you changed the bandaid waiting for your coffee to drop, but it had to happen.
as you pour a glass, you hear someone going down the stairs and the contact of their feet hitting the wooden floor reverberating throughout the quiet house. hanni comes into vision in a few seconds, rubbing her eyes and then tying up her bedhead to reveal a puffy face.
avoiding eye contact, you look away, leaving her with the view of the side of your face and the bandaid on your shoulder. 
it’s silent, yet the tension seems like a siren blaring in your ears. 
hanni walks past you, grabbing an empty glass before trudging over to the fridge. the sound of water filling the glass echoes in the quiet kitchen as you sip your coffee, the gulp a little too loud in the stillness. you can hear every step she takes, the soft shuffle as she leans against the counter across from you, the gentle clink of the glass as she brings it to her lips. each sip she takes seems to resonate, followed by a small sigh that hangs in the air. everything feels heightened— every sound, every movement — everything.
you turn around and make your way to the sink – right next to hanni – and dump the rest of your coffee down the drain because you can’t finish it in front of her. neither of you bat an eye at each other, despite your faces being a hand or two apart. hanni sips on her water, you let the running water fill the silence until you decide to say something.
“i’m going to work.”
“okay.”
“okay.” you respond, turning to finally catch a glimpse of her face again, side profile and all enhanced by the light.
you grab your work bag on the table and put on your cap, not batting an eye at her as you walk towards the door.
“wait,” hanni says suddenly, making you turn around again to face her. you raise your brows, expecting more from her. “don’t be reckless.” she adds, looking you dead in the eye.
you tense up, looking right back at her. 
“whatever.” you mumble, turning back around to leave.
not only did michael make you work from eight in the morning until three, he makes you clock out to see a text saying “hey, could you pick up hanni?” the same hanni that you had argued with last night because you were stubborn, in pain, and still angry at three assholes to the point that you had lashed out on his innocent granddaughter for no reason.
you’re in debt to michael forever (basically – in your mind that’s the case) so of course you respond with a small thumbs up emoji.
now you find yourself back in your car, on the way to the university hanni goes to, which, is conveniently and frighteningly the same university your friends go to. if they had caught you picking up a girl, who knows what remarks they’d bring to the table the next time you see them.
(it’s not the fact that it’s just a girl, it’s the fact that hanni isn’t ugly in the slightest, not at all.)
(pretty even, but that could be pushing it.)
(it’s not pushing it, not at all the more you think about it.)
(you decide to shake hanni off your mind.)
you park by the public health building, waiting for michael’s granddaughter to show up. you sigh, looking at all the students passing by and sighing even harder looking at the dumb couples hand in hand. the last time you tried loving, it made it hard to even consider being in something like that – being enamored.
you’re back to earth when you catch a girl with overgrown bangs in a oversized jersey and sweats in the distance. she’s grinning and giggling with two other women you don’t recognize, even pushing one in the shoulder and smiling wide.
it hits you that you’ve never seen her like this… joyful? it’s partly your fault, holding onto that stupid grudge you can’t let go of, but still, it’s strange seeing her so open. she crinkles her nose, laughs with her mouth wide, and throws her head back just a bit—it’s oddly cute, even adorable. something about it unsettles you, though, like you’re witnessing a side of her you were never meant to see. even then, you feel one corner of your lips turning up just barely.
she’s closer to the car, looking around as her friend says something inaudible. then she catches you in her field of vision and her smile falters slightly, it unsettles you even more.
“i’ll see you guys tomorrow, bye!” hanni waves to her two friends, then walks towards your car. she opens the door to the passengers side and takes off her bag before settling in. 
it’s silent when she closes it, other than the faint sound of your rnb playlist in the background and the click of hanni’s seatbelt. you shift the stick and start to get out of where you are, hanni looks forward and out the window.
once you make it to the stoplight before leaving the grounds, you take the opportunity the red light gives you to speak.
“i’m sorry.”
hanni turns her head at your sudden apology, looking at you like you’ve just spat nonsense.
“what?”
“i’m sorry for… being so,” you grip the wheel tighter, turning your head just a bit to meet her gaze. “you know, stubborn.”
“is this about last night?”
you gulp. “yeah.”
“oh, okay.” hanni says, looking back and watching the light turn green. 
you slowly hit the gas and turn the wheel. “i was really um, angry last night, from everything.” you start again, eyes on the road. “i didn’t mean to be a bitch.”
“look who’s self-aware.”
“shut the hell up.”
“what an apology.” hanni says, though not without smiling to herself a bit. she looks at the bandaid on your neck, then asks, “are you good?”
“i’m fine, it was just a scratch.”
“right.”
“i literally box, hanni.”
“with gloves and a ref.”
“wow! good eye.” you say bluntly, making her snicker a bit. hanni smiles, not quite like you had seen her smile before, but the way her lips turn make you smile yourself.
she looks out the window on her side for a bit, you keep driving and turn up the volume along the way.
“why did you start boxing?” she asks out of the blue. 
you glance at her for a split second, she’s still gazing out the window. “my grandpa boxed.”
“do you like it? doesn’t it hurt?”
“it’s–” you pause, thinking of a response that doesn’t reveal too much. “--thrilling. i mean, i just… bottle up a lot. it’s the only way i get all of it out.”
“is it?”
“i guess? kinda. you should box, seems like you’ve got a lot in that tiny body of yours.” you joke.
“i’d rather jump off a building.” hanni pretends to shiver. “i don’t know how you or yunjin do it.”
“you’d love it, just put on gloves and go crazy.”
she rolls her eyes, leaning against the glass as you turn the corner. 
the rest of the ride is silent.
two weeks later, you’re sitting down on the couch in your apartment and watching more of your grandpa’s matches. there’s something beautiful and equally as admirable in how swift and agile he is with each move, easily taking down anyone in his way. you replay certain moments, specifically his hooks that you tried your best to replicate.
in the middle of it all, you hear a knock on your door.
you turn, looking confused because why would anyone be at your place? maybe minjeong left something again, but she hasn’t been at your place in over a week.
you open the door, not minding that you’re literally in a sports bra and boy shorts looking like you’ve just gotten out at bed, and widen your eyes at the sight of hanni in your view.
hanni, on the other hand, tenses up at the sight of you. 
your whole body is on display, but not in the way yunjin does it—dressed to impress, ready to make out with whoever catches her eye at parties. yours is a different kind of exposure, casual and unintentional, almost domestic. it catches hanni off guard, all of it. her eyes trace the small strawberry tattoo just above your waistline, lingering on the subtle curve and tone of your abdomen. the way your skin glistens under the dimmed light overhead makes it even harder for her to look away.
she’s staring – blatantly. 
you clear your throat, leaning your head down a bit as you put your hand against the doorframe.
“what are you doing here?”
“what?” hanni shoots her head up to match your level. “oh, my grandpa needed something.”
“did he? shit… i borrowed his cooking shit for a house party–” you groan, “just come inside, sit down on the couch.”
hanni does as she’s told, you let her inside and she’s taken aback by how… neat it is. 
hanni always thought of you as someone angry and stubborn—your first impressions and the way you carried yourself made her believe you’d be disorganized, a bit all over the place. but now, sitting in your apartment, she realizes how wrong she was. the earthy tones, the carefully placed trinkets, the neatly arranged shelves, and the thoughtfully chosen furniture all speak to a side of you she didn’t expect. as she sits on the couch, her eyes drift to the small plant by your tv and the man locked in the middle of a match on the screen. she glances at the coffee table, stacked with boxing and vintage magazines. your place is nice, unexpectedly so.
you return with a box balanced against your side, holding it in place with one hand while you use the other to clear the coffee table. placing the box down, you settle into the smaller seat opposite her, leaning back with a sigh. you manspread casually, your posture relaxed as you take a moment to unwind. 
it’s oddly alluring, hanni thinks, she wants to stop thinking forever as soon as the thought even processes through her brain.
“that should be all of it.” you yawn and rub your eyes. “tell michael i said sorry for forgetting.”
“right, yeah.” hanni’s staring at you, she can’t seem to take her eyes off you, not when you look so… tolerable?
“did you need something else or…?”
“no,” hanni coughs, shaking her head. “but i need you to take me somewhere um, this saturday. my grandpa is gone for the weekend.”
“am i your uber now? i don’t know if i can, i’m going out on saturday.”
“oh, nevermind then.”
“where do you need to go?” you ask, “i can make arrangements, i guess.”
“a party”
“you party?” you snicker, looking at her amused. “i didn’t know you had a social life.”
“you are actually the most annoying person i know.” she grabs the box, then starts to stand. “nevermind, you ass.”
she starts to walk away, heading toward the door, but your touch halts her. hanni feels the gentle tug of your finger hooked around the back of her zip-up’s neckline, the fabric pulling her back slightly. she turns to face you, confusion etched in her expression as she meets your gaze.
“i’ll take you, loser.” you release your finger from her hoodie. “what’s your number?”
“my what?”
“number hanni, what you use to text and call people. one, two, three, four, five, six and so on… you know, the digits on your little phone.” your tone reminds her of a kindergarten teacher talking to a child, or some soft parenting method – it’s teasing and hanni would punch you if it weren’t for the box she was holding.
she manages to stomp on your foot, making you say ‘ow’ jokingly. then she gives you her number, you send a text, a simple ‘asshole’ and smiling when you hear the little buzz from her pocket.
“just text me the address, oh, and by the way,” you say, tugging lightly at the sleeve of her zip-up hoodie, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric. “where’d you get this?” your eyes trace the way it drapes over her, the oversized fit somehow flattering. it falls just past her waist, the sleeves hanging slightly, giving her a cozy, effortless look. maybe it’s just her that makes it work so well. maybe it’s just her.
she shrugs, muttering, “i don’t know, my grandpa gave it to me and said it’d fit.”
“it’s a little big on you,” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. “might fit someone taller.”
“i will throw this box at you,” hanni groans, rolling her eyes. you laugh softly, opening the door for her, watching as she steps into the hallway.
“hey, hanni,” you call after her, making her pause and glance back. she tilts her head, curious, as you add with a mischievous grin, “that’s my zip-up, by the way.”
she freezes, her cheeks flushing as she processes your words. she looks down at the hoodie, suddenly aware of how comfortable it feels, how it smells faintly like you. you’re terrible, she thinks, hating the weird flutter in her stomach, the way her blush deepens. everything about you, your stupid remarks, your annoying personality, and that oddly cute nature—it all makes her feel things she can’t quite name, and it drives her crazy.
hanni hates you.
(just a little less now, or maybe more – she hates how confused you render her.)
you send hanni a simple ‘here.’ text and stand outside the door waiting for her, hands in your pockets as you look at the overgrown grass that needs to be cut soon – most likely by you. as much as you dread it, you’ll be getting some good food after, that’s always promised.
the door opens a few minutes later and hanni appears, you’re taken aback.
she’s fucking gorgeous.
a loose white baby t-shirt clings to her softly, revealing just a hint of her delicate stomach and the subtle curve that draws your eye without meaning to. her low-rise jeans ride low enough to show the waistband of her underwear, adding to the effortless appeal. when you finally look up at her, your lips part slightly, caught off guard by how striking she is. her full, plump lips are highlighted by a touch of makeup that emphasizes their natural shape. though her makeup is minimal, the slight smokiness around her eyes and the rosy blush on her cheeks bring out her features in a way that feels almost intimate. her bangs fall just above her eyes, partially obscuring her forehead, and the hoops in her ears add a finishing touch. everything about her compels you to take a second look, your heart skipping a beat in the process. 
“are you ready?” hanni breaks you out of your trance, you blink and then look past her. 
“yeah, sorry.”
she tries to read you, then shakes it off and walks past you and towards your car. you subconsciously look her up and down, furrowing your brows when it hits that you basically just checked her out.
was hanni always this… nice on the eyes?
hanni gets in the car first after you unlock it, you plop in the drivers seat check your messages, there’s an address in your groupchat with minjeong and the others. you decide to check it later, instead asking hanni to type her address in your phone, which is almost too similar to the one you had just seen in your notifications.
“hold on,” you mutter under your breath, staring at the address hanni had typed in and then at the one in your group chat. it’s the same address. “i think… we’re going to the same party.”
“you party?”
“okay you can’t ask me that, nerd. and yes, i do when i want.”
“whatever.” hanni rolls her eyes as you wait for the directions to pop up on your carplay screen. you take the time to settle your phone down in the cup holder, then gaze at hanni for a little, eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips once, then twice. hanni raises a brow, then asks bashfully, “what?”
“nothing,” you mumble, looking at her lips again. you reach her eyes one more time, making eye contact. “you just look really… good.” you admit, “i guess.”
“oh.” hanni just stares at you while you shift the car from ‘p’ to ‘d’, turning the car away from the curb and driving. she stares hard, focused on everything about you – from the satisfying curve of the side of your features to the sharp jawline of yours, and then to the skin of your abdomen that’s peeking out from the work jacket you have on.
she doesn’t say a word after that, instead scoffing playfully and making you smile softly. she puts on some random song from her playlist after forcefully taking the aux, accidentally playing a more intimate rnb song, making the tension in the air thicker.
you two make it to the house in less than ten minutes walking side by side. both of you can hear music blasting from inside, glancing at each other from the side and smiling to yourselves. 
“my god…” hanni scoffs.
“what, you don’t like astroworld? travis scott isn’t even that bad, they could be playing fucking… juice wrld or something.”
“i hear sicko mode playing every other day outside the food courts… no thanks. and ew! who plays juice wrld at a party?” 
you stifle a chuckle before walking over, hanni follows behind. you two make your way inside – the door had been unlocked already – and walk in. there’s more than just a handful of people, it’s like whoever hosted the function invited anyone they looked at. you spot your friends somewhere in the distance, locking eyes with aeri who smiles immediately after seeing you. 
you nudge hanni’s shoulder, she glares at you while you throw a cocky smirk and say, “text me when you wanna leave, i’m gonna be sober, trust.” hanni nods at you, catching the way your eyes linger on her for a few more seconds, especially at her revealed skin, then watches you leave.
she walks through the house, eventually finding her own group of friends – including yunjin. yunjin questions hanni, mentioning that she saw you earlier with her, asking if she was just more than tipsy and seeing things. but hanni sighs, pretending to be bothered by your presence as she explains a shorter version of how you two grew to tolerate each other. 
she leaves out the fact that maybe it’s because you’re just as charming and cute as you are annoying and cocky. she sugarcoats a lot about you, both the good and bad, making sure yunjin isn’t too bothered. thankfully, her older friend doesn’t mind, instead she shrugs and switches topics when minji arrives with haewon.
it’s been at least three hours of meeting a bunch of people from the university your friends – and coincidentally hanni – go to, playing beer bong without doing the whole drinking part, and for the past thirty minutes you’ve been watching minjeong flirt with girls from across the room and making stupid bets with aeri and jimin as she did so. ningning even snapped pictures of the tipsy flirt, making sure to remind herself to send it to the groupchat in the morning.
you check the time, brows raising at how late it is – nearly one in the morning.
“i’m going to find someone.”
“someone?” aeri raises her brows.
“it’s not like that, this girl i know.” you shove her playfully, then add, “might not be back, she has curfew – i’m giving her curfew, don’t trust her at all.”
“when did you get a girlfriend? let me meet her–”
“she’s not, shut up. i gotta go, i’ll text you or appear or something if i end up staying, see you.” you wave at your friends and then to the three others that had joined your little group conversation, lily? bae? yujin? you can’t remember clearly, but you’re probably right – you’re the only one with a functioning, sober brain in the moment anyway.
heading inside, you check your phone again. hanni texted you fifteen minutes ago saying she’d be waiting in the basement since her friends had left – most of them, the others were probably doing much more… thrilling things.
the basement wasn’t too hard to find. the music was loud, the room dimly lit, and the smell of alcohol mixed with something that is probably weed heavy in the air. you scan the room, jaw tightening and fists balling up when you catch some guy – the guy that you swear aeri was defending the night you got into a fight – all up on hanni.
what was his name? hongjoong? haneul? no, heeseung. that guy, heeseung, you catch him leaning in closer to hanni, his words drowned out by the music and his smile overly confident. hanni tried to laugh it off, but the discomfort was clear on her face. heeseung didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care. he reached out to touch her arm, and that’s when rushed over and stepped in.
you pushed through the crowd, even the two guys about to lock lips, your heart pounding as you saw how close heeseung was getting. you knew he was drunk, and that made him unpredictable. you couldn’t stand by and watch this happen.
“hey man, back off,” you said firmly, stepping between him and hanni.
heeseung’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “what’s your problem? we’re just having fun.”
“she’s not interested,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “leave her alone.”
heeseung’s expression darkened, and before you could react, he shoved you hard, making you stumble back. your instincts kicked in, and you quickly regained your footing, shoving him back with equal force.
“you wanna go, huh?” heeseung taunted, his voice dripping with bravado as he squared up to you.
the crowd around you started to take notice, some backing away while others watched with eager anticipation. you knew this wasn’t going to end well, it never does when you’re involved, but there was no turning back now, not with hanni on the line and at risk. 
you didn’t want to fight, not really, but heeseung swung first, a wild punch that you barely dodged. now you have to fight him, it’s what you train yourself for anyway. 
you retaliated, landing a solid hit to his side and yelling through the music, “back the fuck up.” but it only seemed to anger him more. hanni hides behind you, stepping back as you put a hand out to keep her away from the intoxicated asshole in front of you.
he lunges at you and you feel a sharp sting on your side, followed by the warmth of blood trickling down your ribcage. heeseung had managed to land a hit that split the skin over your rib, his ring slicing what wasn’t covered by your sports bra and jacket. you didn’t have time to dwell on it; you were so focused on keeping hanni away from him that you didn’t even notice the fist hurling at your face while you looked back to check on her. you could taste the metallic tang of blood in your mouth, realizing he had hit your nose 
but you weren’t backing down. you pushed through the pain, throwing another punch that connected with heeseung’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. he tried to come at you again, but you were quicker, sidestepping his attack and delivering a powerful hook to his gut. heeseung doubled over, gasping for breath, and you took the opportunity to finish the fight.
with one last punch, you sent him crashing to the floor. he groans in pain, clutching his side as he lay there, defeated. you stood over him, breathing heavily. your body hurts, there’s blood dripping down on the wooden floor below you, and there’s still the taste of metal in your mouth. 
hanni rushes over to you, her eyes wide with concern as she saw the blood on your side and face. “y/n, are you okay?” she asks, her voice trembling.
your breath shakes, then you wipe the blood from your nose with the back of your hand. “it’s nothing,” you replied, though the pain was starting to set in. “we should go.”
hanni didn’t argue. she helped you out of the crowded room, the two of you leaving heeseung behind as he lay there, too stunned and beaten to follow.
she also doesn’t say a word as you walk away from the fight with a bloody nose and cut skin over the skin of your rib as well as on the corner of your lip. she doesn’t say a word as she follows you to the car, but to be fair, you hadn’t let her anyway.
your breath is shaky the whole way back, you gasp as you flop against the headrest of the car.
“y/n, are you okay?” you don’t respond to her inquiry. instead, you grip the wheel tightly, eyes fixed on the road, and bite down on your back teeth. there’s an unreadable expression on your face, you’re angry and hurt and god knows what else; there’s so much going on with you that hanni can’t point out. 
hanni doesn’t want to feed the fire, you look like you’ll punch anything if she even considers saying another word. she just stares ahead, letting you drive back to her place, following you after you slam the door of your car and lock it, walking in behind you as you open the door without looking back.
“you’re okay, right?” you ask quietly, voice practically a hum. “he didn’t touch you or anything, did he?
“no, he didn’t.” she stares at your back after you take off your work jacket, throwing it at the couch. “you’re–”
“i’m going to stay the night, i’ll be in the shower.”
“i–” hanni watches you disappear up the stairs, then her features relax into defeat.
some of your clothes are still in the room you used to stay in, you grab an old black t-shirt and throw it on, along with your old high school gym shorts. 
everything hurts. your body is a mess of bruises and cuts, but it’s your heart that aches the most. your chest tightens with a mix of regret and self-loathing, each breath a painful reminder of how stupid you were to get into a fight with another drunk idiot. the fact that it all happened in front of hanni makes your stomach churn. you can’t shake the image of her wide eyes, the surprise—maybe even fear?—etched across her face as she watched you throw punches and take hits right in front of her.
there’s a gnawing doubt that settles deep in your mind. did she think less of you for losing control like that? did it make you seem weaker in her eyes because you’d gotten hurt in a reckless, impulsive moment? you replay the scene over and over, each time the look on her face twists the knife in your gut a little more. it shouldn’t bother you, none of it should, you fight for fun, you’ve fought her fucking friend – but still, your flop onto the bed with a groan.
you wonder what she’s thinking now, if she’s disappointed or disgusted, if she sees you differently after witnessing your bruised and battered state. the thought that she might judge you, might see you as less capable, gnaws at you relentlessly. what if she thinks you’re just some bigger asshole than you already are to her, one who can’t control their temper, who gets beat up by nobodies in a drunken brawl? 
you shoot up when you hear a knock on the door, staring straight at it until it opens slowly to reveal hanni in the universities crewneck sweatshirt and shorts, as well as a first aid kit in one hand and an ice pack in the other.
“hey.”
“what do you want?”
“sit up.”
“hanni–”
“are you ever not an asshole? what did i say? sit up straight.” her tone is venomous, you’ve never heard her this serious or angry – seriously angry, angrier than when you spilled coffee on yunjin that one time. “please, just please listen to me for once.”
“fine.”
she sits down next to you, watching you shrink a bit just from her being there. she sets down the first aid kit, you watch her open it and grab a little wipe. then your gaze is redirected when she grabs your chin and moves it, facing it towards her as she examines close, making you gasp and you even feel your cheeks heating up. 
hanni gently cradles your chin between her thumb and pointer finger, her touch firm but surprisingly tender. she carefully dabs at the blood on your lip, her focus intent as if the world outside this moment doesn’t exist. when she lets go, there’s an unexpected pang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach, a slight desire for her touch to linger just a little longer.
but then, she holds you again, tilting your head slightly upward as she tends to the small cut on your lip. her fingers are cool against your skin, and you can’t help but wince at the sting. her expression softens, a brief flicker of concern crossing her face, but she doesn’t say anything. the silence between you is thick, loaded with everything unsaid, as she continues to care for you with a careful, almost hesitant touch.
“you’re an idiot, you know.” hanni says lowly, eyes focused on that little wound. “but less of an asshole.”
“what?” you inhale sharply when hanni presses harder on the cut, most likely intentionally. “ouch.”
“you’re hurt, and it’s because of me. i understand if you’re mad at me for that.”
you pull away, looking at her in disbelief. “what? i’m not mad at you.”
“really?”
“you dumbass.” you start, hanni just stares. “i don’t care about getting hurt, i just… i got so angry, and then he swung and… i just… i don’t know.” you grip the edge of the bed, avoiding her gaze. “i just didn’t want you hurt. i seriously don’t care that i’m hurt, i don’t care at all, i’d take another punch or two if it meant you being safe.”
“really?”
“i mean, yeah. you’re… i don’t know. why would i not do that?”
“i didn’t know you cared for me like that.”
“of course i do hanni.” the words slip out before you can stop them, carrying a weight you didn’t intend. you meet her eyes, your expression showing some sort of longing, exposing something unclear to both you and hanni, maybe unspoken or unknown feelings. your voice, soft and genuine, takes hanni by surprise. “i mean,” you quickly add, clearing your throat as your voice drops to a murmur, “you’re… you know. i couldn’t just let heeseung do that.”
“right,” hanni whispers, studying your face before resuming her careful attention to the cut on your lip. “um, your bruise looks rough, by the way.”
but the bruise doesn’t matter. the pain had faded the moment she touched you, the moment you became hyperaware of every little detail—the way your breath caught each time her thumb brushed against your skin, the soft part of her lips, the way she looked at you with that unreadable expression. she looks really beautiful, and you find yourself utterly captivated, unable to think of anything else but how you’re drawn to her, completely entranced by her presence.
hanni doesn’t hear a response from you, she looks up to meet your eyes, they’re staring deep into hers, brows upturned in the slightest. you two stare at each other for a moment again, hanni’s fingers still on your skin, the wipe in her hand hovering over the corner of your lip, and blush tinting both of your cheeks simultaneously. 
even with the ice pack pressed against your bruise, it feels like your skin is so warm that the ice is melting faster than it should. hanni takes your hand and places it over the pack, guiding you to hold it there. then, without a word, she reaches for the water bottle on the bedside table, setting it within easy reach before grabbing a bottle of tylenol from the kit. did they always have that in there? you really don’t care, not when hanni is carefully placing a tylenol pill at your lips and gently tapping your jaw twice.
“open,” she murmurs, her voice soft and comforting. you comply, opening your mouth just enough for her to slide the pill onto your tongue. she follows up by lifting the water bottle to your lips, helping you take a sip. you swallow, feeling the cool water slide down your throat. “good,” she whispers, her eyes lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze. she smiles, and it’s like everything else fades away.
something shifts in the air between you two, a subtle but undeniable change that makes your heart race, something that won’t easily fade. you’re certain now—whatever this is, it’s here to stay.
“can you lift your shirt up for me? i’m going to patch up your cut, okay?” you nod, keeping the ice pack on your bruise as you lift the shirt just enough for hanni to see the cut – still fresh – and furrow her brows just a bit. nonetheless, she grabs things you don’t pay attention to from the kit, then starts to work her magic.
(“when you love someone, taking care of them is never a problem. i love you y/n, and your grandpa; taking care of you two is nothing of a problem. maybe it’s rotten work for some people, but for the people i love? never.”)
her features etch into concentration, she bites the inside of her lip just barely, and it’s familiar in a bittersweet way.
(“you know y/n, i won’t be here forever.” your grandma’s voice rings in your head. “when you grow older i want you to find someone who will take care of you like that, and it’s your job to take care of them too.”)
she finishes tending to the cut, her knuckles grazing the bandage before she says, “you’re really tough, y/n.” 
the softness in her tone, the evident care, how she’s handled you so sweetly; you feel your eyes watering and before you know it there’s tears sliding down your cheek. hanni doesn’t notice until you sniffle, she looks up at you, surprised to see you in the vulnerable state.
“oh my god, are you okay? did it hurt? you should've told me–”
your voice cracks as you say, “you’re just like her.”
“y/n, what?”
“hanni, you’re, you–” you cut yourself off, bototm lip trembling as you fight back more tears. 
what catches hanni offguard again is the sudden hug she’s being pulled into, feeling your arms wrap around her, holding her close. hanni freezes, but melts into you, rubbing your back and mumbling soft reassurance, “it’s okay, it’s okay i’m– i’m here.”
“you don’t think i’m weak, do you?”
“of course not, you beat someone up for me.”
“good.”
“you’re stronger than everyone i know. you’re anything but weak.” she assures, hearing you sniffle again.
hanni is confused to say the least, but she’s not going ot let go until you’re ready, she’d stay with you the whole night if you asked, really.
you haven’t broken down in years, every punching bag you’ve ever come across has already met everything you’ve bottled up and left unsaid. but something about hanni and her care, it left you crying in her arms to the point where she had to pull away to wipe your tears here and there.
hanni listened to you talk about your grandma, her dying in your arms, her care, her, really the whole latter. she listened to everything, sitting there next to you even when you couldn’t speak and all you could do was stare right at the ground. it was almost like every grudge had fizzled away into nothing, there wasn’t any space for that anymore.
you chuckle, regaining awareness of the whole situation. you feel like an idiot. “i’m sorry you had to hear my sob story.”
“it’s nothing, seriously.” she squeezes your hand tightly. “i just want you to be okay.”
“it’s just, you remind me of her a little, i can’t remember the last time i cried like that. she said something to me once and… i guess seeing it in real time made me break down like a loser.”
hanni tended to you like no one else did, no doctor or nurse you’ve seen has ever done anything like that other than give you a little warning that boxing is dangerous and to be careful not to overtrain yourself. no one has held you like that, looked at you like that, or even spoken to you like that since your grandma.
“you’re not a loser y/n, all those times i called you an asshole, it’s just because of that stupid grudge i had.” she explains. “don’t beat yourself up over it.”
you and hanni have made up after that night, it took a while for you to open up fully and stop avoiding her due to your embarrassment, but it worked out.
you pick up hanni after her classes nearly everyday, michael makes you work hours that let you do so, he seems to enjoy your growing bond. 
sometimes you wait inside your car near whichever building she’s in with a drink or meal just because, and sometimes you two end up at your place for a short bit of time just to mingle and hangout. it’s a growing routine, a recurring thing that you’re fond of.
hanni’s noticing a more vulnerable, caring side of you. before all of this, she’s seen you as some fighter with anger issues, but you’re just like that on the outside. when she’s inside your skin, she’s exposed to the more calm side of you, the side that’s not always on edge, the side that makes her swoon a little bit – she’s always found you alluring no matter how hard she tried to deny it, but now that your real self is constantly in front of her; you’re someone she can’t help but smile at everytime she sees you.
she takes pictures of you rarely, but each one is favorited just because she’s telling herself that they’re funny moments worth looking back on, even if some of them are just you doing domestic things or even driving. she even mentions you to her friends sometimes, sometimes, even to yunjin (who isn’t against this whole growing bond, the rivalry had died down anyway, it was just a tournament for money) which caught her by surprise. 
hanni found herself seeking you out more often, even if it meant enduring the relentless thumping of your fists against the sandbags and the blare of your obnoxiously loud music while she tried to study. it was a small price to pay for those fleeting moments where she could catch a glimpse of you – she kind of (really) enjoyed watching you workout to the point where she’d fake complaints.
“ugh, i have a longass lecture tomorrow. please keep it down, it’s in the morning.”
“and i need to stay in shape you loser.”
“you can go a day without it, just skip today, please?”
you stop your movements, breathing in deeply to catch your breath before looking at her.
she’s wearing her glasses again, and something about them makes her look especially cute. her hair is braided into two neat plaits that hang off her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. when she looks at you, there’s a hint of playful annoyance in her expression, though it only makes you smile wider. your grin broadens even more as you take in the full picture of her—she’s drowned in oversized clothes and you can’t help but be captivated.
“is that my t-shirt?”
hanni looks down at her top, then stutters, “i- i don’t know? i just grabbed it…”
“you’re a thief, that’s what.”
“shut up oh my god.” she groans.
you chuckle, then take your gloves off and hand them to her, she looks at you confusedly. “put them on.” you urge, watching her look at you like you’re stupid. “c’mon now.”
“what?” she feels you grabbing her hands, you place the gloves on yourself for her, then push her towards the sandbag. “i’m not going to–”
“take a hit, it’s a stress reliever.”
“y/n please–”
“go on,” you smirk, raising your brows. “your grandpa was great, you have to have inherited some of his skills.” she immediately punches you in the shoulder, causing you to pout playfully.
with a sigh, she gets into a fighting stance that nearly makes you burst out laughing. she throws a punch—surprisingly decent—then looks at you expectantly.
“happy?” she asks, a dumbfounded expression on her face.
“fix your form,” you murmur, moving behind her to adjust her arms. hanni’s breath catches slightly as you correct her stance, your hands steadying her waist before tapping her thigh to shift her leg back. “there you go, but don’t stay so loose. someone’s going to knock you over.”
“it’s not like i’m going to fight anyone soon—” mid-sentence, you give her a gentle shove, causing her to stumble and lose her balance. “hey!”
“stay tense. if i’d used all my strength, you would’ve hit the ground,” you giggle, helping her back into position. she blushes as you guide her, the warmth of your hands lingering on her waist, making her hyper-aware of every touch. “okay?” your breath hits teh back of her ear and she shivers.
“yeah, whatever.” she says before punching again, a better one for that matter.
“you’re actually not bad.”
“are you lying to me?”
“a little.” you joke, then smile at her. “you’re cute.” you say under your breath.
“what did you say?”
“nothing.”
hanni had heard you say it, but she doesn’t push further. 
the next time you pick hanni up, you decide to head out onto her campus and find your friends before picking her up. her class ends in thirty minutes anyway, and ningning had promised to buy you coffee the next time she had seen you.
you stand near your car with her, leaning against the brick wall beside her with your hand against it as you sip on the latte she had bought you. you stare at the cup, impressed by the quality.
“this is good.”
“i know right.” she agrees, taking another sip. “jesus, your lip is still busted.”
“is it?” you ask, feeling ningnings thumb grazing the injury. “it feels fine.”
“it’s still dark. heeseung got you good, didn’t he?” 
“shut up, i knocked him out, that’s what matters.” you roll your eyes and hear her laugh. she pushes your shoulder playfully, laughing even more.
hanni walks towards your car only to see you not inside, which throws her off. she looks around, scanning the area for a bit until her eyes land on you leaning against the wall with a girl. she feels her heart sink a bit just watching her touch your lip and push you lightly. you laugh at her and smile, making the weird feeling in her stomach even worse.
she walks over and taps your shoulder, earning the attention from the two of you as she clears her throat. 
“hey, i had trouble finding you.” hanni says, then looks at ningning, almost glaring. “who’s this?”
“oh, a friend.” you simply state, then wave at the girl beside you. “i got to get going, let’s catch up soon again, okay?
“mhm, see you n/n.” she winks at you and you have to fight back a gag. hanni feels like there’s a pit in her stomach.
the two of you get into your car, but it’s odd considering hanni hasn’t insulted you or even said anything. she just gets inside and looks out the window while you turn on the car, you raise a brow.
“is everything okay? bad day or…?”
“you into her?”
“what? no. don’t be ridiculous.”
“she kept touching your lip.” hanni scoots closer to the window, not daring to look at you. “i think she wants you.”
“you’re actually an idiot.” you sigh, shrugging her off as you start to drive away.
hanni stays silent the rest of the car ride, not saying much other than responding to your questions bluntly. you don’t know what’s gotten into her.
you’re very aware that it’s easy to piss hanni off, or maybe that’s just because it’s you. 
half the time it’s really just you being playfully irritating, she’s never actually been mad at you in months. but these days, ever since you picked her up that one time after hanging with ningning, she’s been distant, avoidant even.
hanni stays cooped up in her room, you even knock on her door after training to ask to grab a bite or really just anything. hanni’s always throwing the same excuses at you, she never did this before, but now her university work suddenly keeps her away from you.
you knock at her door again, opening it to find her in bed on her phone.
“you busy?”
“who’s asking.”
“what the hell is up with you?” you sigh, walking over to sit next to her. “i just wanted to ask if you wanted fruit. your grandpa cut some for me, like, so much. do you want to eat it together?”
hanni's grown fond of the way you look at her, something she never expected to happen. there's a warmth in your gaze that catches her off guard, especially when you give her those pleading eyes, head tilted just so, with your hair falling perfectly to frame your face. even then, as she shakes her head, she can’t ignore the little flutter in her chest. despite everything, there's an undeniable allure in the way you look at her now, one that she's finding harder to resist.
the whole reason she’s been giving you the cold shoulder is because the realization hit her as soon as you leather tend to your injuries: she likes you, she likes you so goddamn much. seeing you with ningning the other day made her realize that she likes you too much, so much that the fact that someone likes you, and you might like them – this ‘ningning’ makes her heartache.
for fucks sake, she’s a nursing student, she can’t be wallowing away because of a crush.
“not hungry.”
“have you even eaten?”
“yeah.”
“you liar.” you get up, looking at her worryingly and fighting back the words you want to say. “i’m heading out then, i’ll pick you up tomorrow after school.”
“you don’t have to.”
“i’m going to, don’t leave me hanging.” you give hanni a serious look, tightening your jaw before letting a small huff out. she avoids your gaze, turning on her side in her bed, then catching the sight of you leave as soon as your back is turned towards her.
-
you cannot believe what you’re watching unfold right now. 
hanni, hanni, hanni who you beat up a man for, is in the distance talking to that same man you beat up. heeseung is saying something to her that you can’t catch, hanni’s giving him a smile, and you would’ve gotten out of the car to smack him in the face if hanni weren’t already walking towards you.
she gets inside, you look at her like a police officer interrogating a criminal.
“was that him?”
“oh, it’s nothing.”
“hanni.” you start, but decide to close your eyes tight, poke your tongue at your cheek, and simply start to back out of your parking spot. “we’ll talk about this later, we’re going to my place.”
“yours?”
“we’re going to talk.”
“you’re abducting me.” hanni raises a brow, if it were coming from anyone else it would for sure be mildly concerning. “you’re kidnapping me.”
“yes.”
-
you two make it inside and as soon as hanni is in after you, you shut the door and cross your arms.
hanni heads over to your little kitchen and grabs a waterbottle from your fridge, then leans against the counter.
“what did i do?” you ask, walking over to her. “did i piss you off in the wrong way again? did i say something wrong?”
“what are you talking about?”
“don’t give me that, you’ve been avoiding me.”
“no i haven’t.”
“then why haven’t you been over to watch your stupid shows at my place in the past two weeks hanni.” you step closer, sizing up with her and drilling through her skull with your eye contact. “why haven’t we gone out for smoothies in the past two weeks, why haven’t we had a full conversation in two weeks, and hell, why were you talking to heeseung earlier.”
hanni gulps the water she’s sipped, turning her head away, but you use two fingers to redirect her attention back to you. hanni feels her breath shake when she exhales.
“i, it’s nothing. and besides, heeseung was just… asking me out, saying sorry and whatnot but i didn’t give him my number or anything.”
“so you rejected him?”
“i mean, i just told him i’ll think about it.”
you laugh, you laugh because this is fucking ridiculous. 
“he beat me up hanni, he punched a woman – me – right in the face and gave me a bruise. you said you’d ‘think about it?’” 
“what does it matter to you! you already have that ningning, why do you care about me?”
you pause, looking at her confused. “is all this shit because of ningning? she’s just my friend.”
“well you look at her like it’s something more!” hanni blurts, looking stressed.
“it’s not– hanni, you’re being ridiculous.”
“am i? because she was touching your lip and pushing your shoulder and it seemed like you enjoyed being around her sooooo much–”
“and because of this you’ve been avoiding me? and you’re really going to consider seeing a guy who beat my ass up.” you can’t believe what you’re saying, you can’t believe any of this.
“what, i can’t do my own shit now?”
she can’t, she can’t because only you should be doing that shit with her. you’re looking at her like she’s crazy, utterly confused as you scan her features. for a split second, she looks at you like she’s reconsidering things, like she’s longing or something. 
then it hits you, it hits you after you run through every mental note of hanni: she’s jealous, she’s jealous of you because she thinks you and ningning have something going on. 
you pause, stepping closer until there’s hardly any space between you. leaning in, you narrow your eyes at her, voice dropping low. “because,” you murmur, placing one hand on her waist while the other gently cups her jawline. her breath hitches, and you can feel the tension in her neck, but she doesn’t pull away. instead, she drops her gaze to your lips, then down to your collarbone, avoiding your eyes. you tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet your gaze. your eyes trace over her flustered expression – flushed cheeks and parted lips – and you let out a sigh. “because it should be me you’re thinking about seeing, asshole.”
her hand slides to your upper chest, sliding up to your collarbone before you kiss her.
you kiss her like you want her, like you need her and she kisses back with the same force. she reels you in closer and melts into you without thinking. hanni smells like pears and a sunday morning, you could die like this.
she parts to catch her breath, shivering when your hand trickles right under her shirt and your skin grazes against her own. her eyes are still closed when she says, “you’re not with ningning, are you?”
“i’d rather get hit by a bullet train than do anything with her.” you mutter, then pull her closer by the waist. “i want you to be the one i’m kissing, it’s always been you dumbass.”
hanni kisses you again, pulling you in with her arms wrapped around your neck. 
it’s been two hours, you’ve had your lips on hanni for at least two thirds of that time.
but now, on your couch after two long weeks, hanni is by your side leaning against you. she’s always been hesitant with physical touch when it came to you, but after making out with you – with you closer than ever to her, hovering above as her back rests on the cushion of your couch – she doesn’t have to be hesitant whatsoever.
“i don’t understand,” your lips are still swollen, you can feel the swell as you speak. “so is does he want her or not?” you ask, pointing to the two leads on the tv.
“he does but it’s like, complicated.”
“literally how.”
“she dated his brother, and i think she also likes girls.”
“you’re kidding.”
“i swear.” hanni says, eyes focused on the screen. 
“whatever.” you don’t really care, not as much as she does about this show. but that doesn’t stop you from putting an arm around her and looping her hair around your finger, then smiling to yourself. hanni scoots closer into you, and an episode later you’re laying on top of her, fighting sleep as her fingers comb through your hair and press into your scalp relaxingly.
(your grandma was onto something, maybe there was someone out there that you could love and be loved by just as much as her.)
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month
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Hi! Can I have a croissant alongside a banana bread with a side of vodka shot with Toto Wolff please?
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i write for more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you to his anon for the lovely order and i hope you love it! this was a pleasure to write!! <3
croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), horner!reader, daddy kink, daddy issues, yacht sex, references to lestappen, clothed male/naked woman
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rumors were a dirty thing on the grid. they could hurt people and there were efforts to keep them from spreading too far. this was less of a rumor and more of an open secret that no one really acknowledged.
if they did, that meant having to know that chrisitan horner's daughter was sleeping with toto wolff.
you liked toto, you had for some time. there was something about him that drew you in. those large hands, that smile, how determined he was to his job. he was a dedicated man.
just like he was dedicated to making you feel good in all aspects.
it was summer break for formula one, and while your father was in england for the time being. you were in monaco under the guise of seeing friends. your father was hesitant to let you go away for so long, it was a long time away.
"be safe. not too much partying. i need you to call me or at least text me. and if any of those driver boys try to get too close, do not hesitate to hit, punch or whatever."
you nodded as you held you carry on bag close to your chest, "i know, daddy. don't worry!" it wasn't even like you had any interest in any of those drivers, older than you were like old man and younger than you were like annoying younger brothers.
plus, you were already taken.
not that your father knew that. when you hugged him before getting into the car to the airport, you felt giddy. you were constantly texting toto when you got on the phone. thankfully the plane ride wasn't too long and your loving boyfriend met you at the airport in nice.
you giggled and ran into the man's arms.
it was a beautiful sunny afternoon when toto took you out on the boat. but his eyes were on more than just the water as he got everything ready. the sight of you in a white two-piece swimsuit.
you giggled when he took you by the waist, the boat still at the dock. you curled into him and held onto the front of his white button up.
he said to you as he took you by the chin, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
you shook your head, "no, no. he thinks i'm with friends. i have to get verstappen to cover for me so my father will be less worried." you got on your tip-toes and kissed him on the lips.
"oh, so you told verstappen. i thought this was supposed to be a secret."
you tapped your lover's nose, "mutual agreement." you giggled, "if he tried to go to the press about us." you smiled brightly, "i have something ten times worse."
toto got closer to in your space and asked, "and what exactly what would that be?" curiosity got the best of him. usually he didn't get into the affairs of drivers, especially if they weren't working for him.
you shrugged, "remember that text message i got from him about that emergency, because he was stuck at that hotel near where we were?"
toto's hands rubbed your shoulders as he said, "yes. i remember that."
"yeah, he was stuck with leclerc." you smiled, "so, we have a mutual agreement to not spill the beans about the other." you leaned in to kiss toto on the lips, "my father may have a meltdown if he knew we were together. he'd burst a blood vessel if charles and max came out." but you said, "i'm happy for them." then kissed toto on the lips again.
the man wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. he enjoyed the feeling of your lips against him. your body warmed from the sun against him.
you were barely clothed and he was still in a button up and pants. he placed a large hand on your ass and gave it a squeeze. he looked down at you and smiled, "you look very beautiful." he said to you.
"you're not too bad yourself. i thought about wearing that 'tacky' swimsuit i got online that one time just to rile you up." you giggled.
toto's lips were on your neck as he placed both hands on your ass. then gave the cheeks a squeeze, "i told you to not wear that."
it was a two piece swimsuit that was barely held together by strings. but the pattern on the cups and bottoms were of off-brand hot sauce bottles. toto had bought you so many nice swimsuits over your time together, so there was no need to wear it.
"but, why it shows how spicy i am." you winked.
he groaned and shook his head, "schatzi, please." he got you on the couch that was on the deck and had his hands on your hips. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.
you two were in the semi-public, but it would be hard to see unless someone is right next to the boat. it only made it more erotic to you, the possibility of someone seeing.
you straddled his waist and rubbed your barely clothed pussy up against his lap which made the older man groan. he knew that this shouldn't be happening. it was bad enough he was wrapped around the fingers of a woman young enough to be his daughter, but on top that you were the daughter of one of his bigger rivals.
but the way you melted in his arms and rubbed against his cock made him feel otherwise, in all fairness, you were a legal adult who could make her own choices. even if your father was a little protective.
you kissed him square on the mouth and he took you by the hips. he rubbed his clothed cock up against you. you groaned a little bit and kissed him more.
"you're prettier when you're on top." he chuckled as he massaged your hips, "but you always know that you could end up underneath me at anytime. because you're a good girl, right? my good girl."
you nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you rubbed up a little further and said, "of course, toto."
he reached and tapped your nose, "toto?" he tilted his head to the side, "there's another name you like to call me, no?"
you swallowed, "you're an insatiable old man."
he pressed himself further against you and replied, "i may be, schatzi. but i'm still your daddy."
you blushed further before you took off the swimsuit top and he groped at your breasts with his large hands. he groaned a little bit before he grabbed onto your hips then pushed down the bottoms off of you.
you were naked and working to get toto's cock out of his pants. you swallowed when you caught sight of it. you stroked it softly and he shuddered. all you had to say about his cock was that it was proportionate to his over six foot frame.
"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said.
"mmm, please." you whimpered.
he rubbed the back of your head and smiled at you as you gazed at his cock. you two were out in the open, but had a bit of privacy to continue your little affairs. you kissed him deeply as he seated you onto his cock.
his jaw tensed at the feeling of your slick pussy around his cock. you were a dream, he couldn't believe that horner's daughter was the woman of his dreams. but as he groped your soft flesh, that didn't matter. all he wanted was you, he wanted the pretty little thing that bounces on his cock with ease.
you whimpered and dug your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. you rolled your hips up and down his cock. you said, "shit, daddy! ah! please"
he hissed through his teeth when his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he groaned and buried his face into your breasts as he moved against you.
the two of you moved in time with each other. you could feel his teeth against your breasts which only turned you on more. he felt so good, it was like a little addiction.
"daddy, ah!" you whimpered.
"you're so beautiful." he said, "when i saw you on the track, it took everything in my power not to lead you away from your father and fuck the daylights out of you."
you groaned, "c'mon daddy, don't talk about him right now. i need your cock more than anything." you whimpered as you continued to move up and down on his cock.
it felt so snug inside of you and the pace you were using was rough. but it excited you, it made you hot all over. your breasts bounced in front of his face, it was very hot.
"fuck, please. you are so fucking good, daddy. it's not fair. no one else has ever been able to fuck me the way you do." you whined. your sexual history was primarily made up of interactions with toto.
he had to taught you most of what you knew about sex, at least in a pleasurable sense. he was the first person to make you cum. you thought that orgasms were reserved for you and your toys. but toto proved you wrong.
"i need you daddy." you whimpered.
"you have me." he replied as he continued to kiss you. his kisses lingered on your collarbones as you rode him. it felt so good. he was a divine lover.
you kept up your pace and felt the pleasure course through your body. your pretty tits bounced with each movement. you looked so nice naked, he loved the sight of your body.
you fit him like a glove.
his kisses were sloppy as you dug your nails into his shoulders. the pleasure bounced in his head as he moved against you. his cock hitting all the right places.
"please, daddy. i only want you. i never want to fuck anyone else."
he grabbed you by the head and said, "good, because no one else will ever touch you."
you soon climaxed, your voice filled the open air. but toto pulled you into a searing kiss, his grip on you was tight as he bullied his cock into your poor bruised cunt. you'd be feeling it all by morning. he continued his movements against you. you panted wildly and felt the flash of heat through your body. you moaned, "please, daddy."
"i've got you, schatzi." he said then groaned.
you slowed down your pace and rested against your lover's chest. you could feel his quick pulse. you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. but it didn't take long before he started to thrust up into you again.
he groaned, "i need you more, schatzi." he gripped onto your hips tightly and moved up into you, "i only have a few weeks with you before you have to go back to your father. and i want to make sure i've touched all over you, and you don't forget my touch."
you moaned, you wouldn't mind going another round. or maybe another three rounds. after all, you needed your daddy. and you wanted to make sure you that you felt every inch of him in return.
when he groped your ass, you squirmed.
"please, daddy. i need you."
-
the end of the summer break spelled the dutch grand prix. hamilton and russell were sitting waiting for their time to get going. russell looked at his teammate and asked, "did you see wolff?"
"what's going on with him?"
russell stretched out on the couch and little, "saw him with horner's daughter during break. i passed by his boat and found her in next to nothing."
"ah, c'mon, now you're just spreading rumors!" hamilton got closer, "but i am curious to know what you apparently saw there, mate." rumors were a dirty thing on the grid, but sometimes the information was just too delicious. <3
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bpmiranda · 11 days
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It Could Be | l. howlett|
A/N: a lot of angst, a little fluffy, boxer!logan, sweet!reader, mentions of cheating, violence, protective!logan, mutual pining
The only place Logan could take his anger out was at the gym, in the boxing ring. There wasn’t anything that compared to the feeling of exhausting himself by plummeting something, whether it was another man or the punching bag, though for him it usually had to be the bag due to his advanced strength and adamantium lined bones. Logan was angry a lot until he met her.
Y/N had to be the closest thing to sunshine incarnate on earth. Her eyes so wide with genuine kindness and wonderment, her smile so sweet and comforting, the feeling of her smaller frame pressed against him when she greeted him with a tight hug. Logan ached for her in ways that he shouldn’t. One because he was no good for her, he knew that. She deserved someone that she could count on, that stuck around. And two because the guy she was with right now was a good friend. They had known each other for a few years now and Y/N was attached at his hip - loyal to a fault.
But Logan knew Adam wasn’t exactly who she needed either. Adam was always messing around behind her back, lying, forgetting important dates. They were a close knit trio, Logan considered them the people he was closest to in this lifetime, so he ended up caught in the middle a lot. Y/N tried not to make a habit out of seeking him out for comfort, but Logan always made himself so readily available to her. Much more than he bothered to do for Adam, though it didn’t often matter as his friend was usually consoling himself in the arms of other women.
That’s what made Logan mad these days. Having to see a buddy of his screwing around on whom Logan considered to be the most wonderful woman this earth had to offer. He couldn’t ever bring himself to get in the ring with Adam out of fear that he would kill him.
But today was different.
They had been arguing outside. Her eyes tear-filled and her lip pouting when she wasn’t pleading with him to see things from her perspective. “You’re embarrassing me, Adam!” Logan could hear her cry due to his heightened senses, he didn’t mean to, but he worried about her. “I hate having to hear from my friends that they see you out with her or some other girl. Don’t you see how much that hurts me? I love you, you idiot, and you’re ruining us!”
“Y/N, baby, I am not cheating on you. Your friends don’t even like me, they would say anything for you to be upset with me.” Adam argued and she gave him an unimpressed look. His hands pulled her into his chest by her shoulders and he wrapped her arms tightly around her as she defeatedly hugged him back. “I love you too, baby. I don’t want this to come between us. You gotta believe me.”
Unfortunately, she did, and it made Logan’s blood boil to watch them come in together, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he told her to sit and wait on a bench in front of the ring. “Hey, Lo,” She greeted him with a hug and he held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and watching Adam head to the locker room to change. “Sorry you had to see that.” She said against his chest and he knew she was talking about the crying. Logan had mentioned once before, that one night, not too long ago, that he hated seeing her cry, especially over his dumbass friend which had made her stop crying long enough so she could laugh.
Logan loved to make her laugh.
“You okay?” He asked, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length to look at her. Y/N held onto his waist as she nodded, sniffling quietly as she forced a smile on her face. “Oh, baby.” He sighed, caressing her cheek with his palm and she smiled shyly.
“I’ll be okay,” She said, placing her hand over his and nodding. “He’s a good guy. Couples just fight sometimes.”
Logan hated the way he treated her and this time, when Adam tried to get him into the ring for a one versus one, he said yes.
“About time.” Adam had laughed, giving her a quick peck before he got into the boxing ring with Logan. With a nervous smile, she watched as her boyfriend and closest friend paced around each other slowly. Adam threw a few punches, grinning as Logan easily ducked his swings. “C’mon, Logan, don’t make it too easy for me.”
Suddenly, Logan swung hard and Adam lost his balance. Y/N let out a small gasp, her hand covered her mouth as she watched her boyfriend stumble and Logan looked over at her, a deep look of longing in his eyes that she couldn’t pretend not to notice. “Let’s go, A.” Logan smirked, turning back to his still surprised opponent. Adam chuckled dryly and he lunged at Logan who was quick to jump out of the way and he pushed him towards the ropes. “Don’t let me whoop your ass in front of your girl.” Logan’s words made her face warm up and she felt the tension building up between the two men. Adam was visibly annoyed and he ran at Logan with full intention of harming him only to be punched swiftly in the gut. Adam grunted painfully, hunching over and dropping to the floor.
“Logan!” Her voice called him and he looked at her. “Stop, you’re hurting him.”
Slowly, Adam stumbled back onto his feet and Logan smirked as he approached his friend to help him. “You alright?” He asked, offering him a hand which Adam pushed away.
“The hell are you playing at?” He demanded, shoving Logan away whose nose flared angrily.
“Don’t fucking shove me.” Logan said in a warning tone only for to Adam shove him again. Logan chuckled and then swung quickly, clocking him square in the jaw and Y/N gasped loudly, her hands on her stomach as she watched the two friends fight. “Told you.”
Logan watched as Y/N hurried into the ring and he sighed as she ducked down to look into Adam’s face. “Come on, let me get you cleaned up.” She said, looking over at Logan who shrugged lightly as she helped Adam through the ropes and guided him to the men’s locker room. Logan removed his gloves, smiling to himself as he packed them and pulled on a grey hoodie. He definitely didn’t feel angry anymore.
Not long after, Y/N came back out with her arms crossed over her middle and she shook her head at Logan who was waiting for her, leaning against a beam and smiling at her. “He alright?” He asked as she stopped and stood a few feet from him. She only nodded. Logan sighed and scratched the back of his neck as he glanced briefly at the ground and then back into her pretty eyes. “He’s been asking for it.” He explained and she gave him a look that told him she wasn’t buying it. “A one on one, you know?”
“That’s not why you beat him up like that.” She said matter-of-factly and Logan couldn’t help the smirk on his face that gave him away. “Logan,” She took a calculated step towards him, looking down at her shoes as she did and then back up at him. They were closer now, just one wrong move away from being caught in a predicament. “We’ve talked about this.” Logan casually leaned an arm on the beam as he stared down at her with those same soft green eyes that reeled her in that one night, not too long ago. “We’re friends, you and I, and while I appreciate how much you care about me, I just-I can’t.”
While he heard her, understood that she was drawing a boundary, he still smiled because he simply couldn’t help but feel joy in her presence. With her around, he was always calm and he felt confident. “I’d treat you better.” He said, almost promising her.
Her hand came up to his abdomen where she lightly bumped him with her fist and he pretended to get the wind knocked out of him, hunching forward slightly which made her giggle as she shook her head. “It’s just not that easy.”
Logan knew she and Adam had a history, he knew she was loyal, not the type to run around on her man, so his chances were low. It didn’t stop him from trying, however. With his other hand, he caught hers before it fell back to her side and he gently pulled her into him, closing the space between them so she had to bring her arm up and rest it on his chest, a failed attempt to distance herself from her boyfriend’s best friend. Her cheeks grew warm as he caressed her hand with his thumb down by their sides and the one still leaning on the beam balled into a fist to keep himself from kissing her like he did that one night, not too long ago. “It could be.”
🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊
Been having some thoughts about boxer!logan😌
It Could Be II
It Could Be III
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12
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earthtooz · 4 months
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post-argument fic, reader's still mad at wriothesley, the yearning and desperation from wriothesley is heavy in this one lul, established relationship, suggestive comments
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brief biker!wriothesley thought.
disagreements don't happen often between you and wriothesley. you are both level-headed enough to maintain composure whilst talking through any issues, but in the scarce moments where it snowballs into something heated, it results in cold shoulders and uncomfortable silences born from residual anger.
wriothesley, who likes to be direct and to resolve things as they occur, lingers around you, hesitant to anger you more than he already has. he downright loathes how you walk on eggshells around him, unable to hold his gaze. in moments like these, he wants nothing more than just to pull you close and kiss you until you forgive him, bleeding apologies until you mend him with your forgiveness.
unfortunately for him, you had promised to go out for dinner with some of your mutual friends the night after your tense argument.
wriothesley's already there when you come straight from work, watching as you greet everyone with a big smile and wave, settling into the empty space next to him. all he gets is a tiny grin before your attention is swept away by furina, who sits directly in front of you.
he tries to act like it doesn't bug him when you turn to talk to clorinde, who sits on your left. tries to keep his desperation on the low when he asks for your attention, pointing to items on the menu that you'd like. tries to act like a kiss- a smile, even, isn't all he wants when he gives you the things you like from his plate.
if you don't look him in the eye for longer than five seconds, he might dissolve in his seat.
miraculously, wriothesley survives the torturous evening, and it's difficult to pretend like he isn't excited about going home and having you all to himself. he farewells everyone a little too enthusiastically, and drags you away with him before they can convince you to stay for drinks.
(though, if you wanted to, he would have complied and bitten back his complaints, but judging by the way you follow him without any reluctance, home was the right direction.)
since your shared car was dropped off for service, the only way of getting home was wriothesley's motorbike. he helps you on and you murmur a shy 'thank you' underneath your breath when he puts your helmet on for you, only getting on when you're safely secured and comfortable in your seat.
however, unlike usual when your arms would circle around his muscular torso tightly, your grip lingers awkwardly by his sides.
"doll, you need to hold on tight," he warns, starting the engine. you comply ever so slightly, ghosting your arms around him.
for wriothesley, who prioritises your safety more than anything else, it isn't good enough, so he gently pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around him himself. without another word, he drives off, catching you off guard. he hears a small yelp from behind him before your arms snake around him tightly.
wriothesley's sure he'll get a light scolding and a punch to the arm for scaring you like that, but as long as he gets to look you in the eye, he'll take whatever you throw at him.
bonus:
when you're back in the safety of your home, you lightly shove your helmet at his chest and begin scolding him for scaring you like that, but all he does is wolfishly smile at you.
"i warned you, gorgeous, that's what happens when you don't listen to me."
you huff, sliding off the leather seat, clutching your bag to your side, but wriothesley doesn't let you go far, pulling you back in to stand in between his legs.
"still mad at me?" his hands find purchase at your hips. you glance into his icy eyes before looking aside. "i'm sorry, i'll say it as many times as i need to. when are you gonna find it in your heart to forgive me?"
"when you apologise a thousand times."
he whistles. "a thousand? that's a lot."
"so get started."
"do you take other means of compensation?" his hands sneak under your shirt to rest on your waist and you immediately catch his wrists before he can go any further.
"are you even trying to apologise?"
he snickers. "i'm sorry."
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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talesof-old · 6 months
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friends? | j.p.
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pairing(s): james potter x reader
warning(s): nothing really, slight mentions of infidelity, breakups due to inappropriately close friendships, slightly rushed and not edited/proofread
word count: 1k
a/n: i’m so sorry this took me so long i lost track of time
masterlist
bsf!james potter + realizations
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“You spend all day with him, what else am I supposed to believe!”
Your boyfriend’s—or rather, your ex-boyfriend’s—words were still on your mind, even a week later. A year down the drain, for what? You sighed and closed your Charms textbook. Studying would have to wait for another day.
Your books and parchment were shoved into your bag and then you were exiting the library, ready to put on one of your sad records and wallow in your dorm.
As you made your way to Gryffindor tower, you hear your name being called. You turned. James, followed by his three friends, all looking rather bemused. Your heart beats faster. What was once second nature, a smile and greeting, now proved far more difficult than you could’ve imagined.
James fell into step next to you, fingers intertwining with yours in a motion that appeared as easy as breathing. Your smile faltered before you caught yourself. Holding hands was normal between friends, wasn’t it? Affection came naturally when you cared for people. James squeezed your hand before all but dragging you through the Fat Lady’s portrait.
Unceremoniously, he dropped his bags at the foot of the unoccupied couch and flopped down, bringing you down with him. You fell against the plush cushions, belt digging into your waist.
“You alright? Y’seem a bit…off.” You nod your head. It was no use rehashing the events that had led up to this point. Instead, your gaze turned to where your hands were joined.
You wondered when the lines of friendship blurred between you and James. Before, you’d taken your friends’ teasing in stride, assuming they were just taking the piss at the two of you. Sure, James was attractive and unnecessarily attentive, but that was just James.
He knew all of your mutual friends schedules, knew what they liked or didn’t, always cared for each of you. The thought that he treated you in a different way hadn’t even crossed your mind.
Sirius cackled to your left and you glanced over, watching as his cheeks went red and he shook his head at Remus. You raised a brow. Had you really gotten so caught up in everything that you hadn’t noticed? Heat rushed to your face as you thought back to your boyfriend’s breaking point.
Abba blared in the Common Room, plastic cups littering every available surface filled with some far too strong mixed concoction. Lily had abandoned you to dance with Mary, leaving you nodding along to the music. Your boyfriend would likely be arriving any moment. A Hufflepuff, talented and charismatic, who’d somehow managed to sweep you off your feet in the middle of Divination class.
“There you are.” An arm wrapped around your shoulder. You flinched, your drink sloshing as you turned to gaze at the boy. James’ smile was crooked as he leaned closer to you, pupils dilated. You grinned back, nudging his ribs to curl into his side. He rubbed your shoulder.
“I couldn’t find you earlier, thought maybe you’d abandoned me for some book upstairs.” You rolled your eyes. Someone yelled from across the room, the sound followed by several drunken hollers. You turned to face him. James’ face was barely two inches from yours, eyes unblinking behind his glasses. You raised a brow.
James just grinned, squeezing your shoulders. Your cup was discarded almost immediately as he started guiding you towards the table. Two punches were gleaming in the light, though you could’ve sworn one was far pinker than you remember it being.
“What did you lot do?”
He gasped in mock offense. “Us? You think so lowly of your friends that you assume we’ve messed with the punch?”
Your blank look had him caving.
“Alright, maybe Pads added something.” You huffed a laugh.
“Just be care-“ Another student bumped into you, sending you falling into James’ chest. A ruckus started from where a group of Gryffindors began wrestling. You shook your head.
James turned you around. “You alright?” Perhaps if you’d been paying attention, you would’ve noticed just how close he was, and noted the way he held you.
But you didn’t. However someone else, watching the whole thing, did. He’d made a point to stay back and see if his suspicions held any truth. James Potter was in love with you, even if you couldn’t admit it.
You let James drag you over to your friends, plopping you down on the couch before settling down next to you. With your affectionate disposition, it was only natural to nestle into his side. Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at you; your friend’s teasing would only be taken as a lighthearted jab.
For the moment, you just savored the warmth of James beside you. In the presence of your friends you felt safe and understood. Perhaps that’s why you never questioned it. James pressed a quick kiss to your temple as he leaned forward to grab his drink.
That was enough for your boyfriend. Playing second to James was not a game he wanted in on. And for you to be so oblivious to it all? The sharp sting of betrayal was ample enough reason to show that it was time to bring things to an end.
You shook yourself out of your thoughts. There was no point in dwelling on the awful conversation you’d had with your ex. The realizations you’d had since that night were enough to occupy your time. James wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Briefly tensing before melting into his embrace, you leaned your head against his arm. Despite the hurt you felt from your boyfriend seemingly suddenly breaking up with you, the freedom you now had to question yourself was exhilarating. Perhaps you’d figure out what all this meant, with time. Maybe you could find it in yourself to pay more attention to the actions of a particular friend.
James squeezed your hand. You turned, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “We’re going to the kitchens to grab a few things, you coming with?”
You shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”
+++
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rafedaddy01 · 11 months
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Summary: reader and Rafe are enemies, but their families are super close so they are forced to go on a trip together where they end up sharing a room. One thing leads to another and they end up sharing more than just a room together.
Warnings: smut
Notes: this was a request. It was anonymous so I’m not sure who sent it in but thank you! Btw, I got ALL of your guys’s requests, thank you so much!!! I asked and you guys really delivered. I will get all of them just be patient with me 🧡🥹
You and Rafe NEVER got along. It was a mutual thing.
Anytime your family would gather the two of you would just spend the entire time arguing, about little things.
For example, one time your family was at Rafes house and the way he chewed with his mouth opened bothered you. You kindly asked him to stop and he went off on you. He is such a drama queen.
So when you got the news that your two families would be going camping together… boy oh boy. It would definitely be an eventful weekend.
“Great” you curse under your breath as you try to set up your tent but struggle. You hear snickering behind you and turn to see the eldest Cameron.
You roll your eyes and turn back around.
“Y/n. You’ll be sharing a tent with Rafe”
“What!” You exclaim back to your mother who rolls her eyes at your annoyance.
“Don’t make a scene! Be a reasonable person. You know Sarah has issues with you” you mother explains.
You roll your eyes.
Sarah.
She hated you and for no reason at that.
She could sometimes be worse than her older brother, sometimes.
“Fine” you grumble as you unzip your tent and carry your bag inside.
“Hi roomie”
You roll your eyes as the vein in your forehead try’s to burst free.
“Careful, one day they’ll get stuck like that”
“Good. Then I won’t have to look at you anymore”
Rafe steps back and places a hand over his heart, almost like you had hurt him. “Ouch” he says sarcastically. “And I thought you were starting to like me”
“In your dreams Cameron. There isn’t a bone in my body that could ever like you” your up in his face at this point.
He looks down at you with a smirk.
“Not one?” He asks smugly.
You cock an eyebrow at him
“Not even.. if I do this?”
His fingertips smoothly trail up your waist and arms, coming up to push the hair off your neck and he gives you a genuine smile before locking eyes with you. “Or this..?”
He leans down and places a soft kiss to your neck.
“Ra-“
“Y/n! Rafe! Come out here, we’re getting ready for dinner”
Your moan gets cut off my your fathers voice. You push Rafe off and glare at him as he looks you up and down before turning away and laughing.
“I hate you”
You walk out of the tent and go help prepare dinner.
The rest of the night goes as usual. You and Rafe have your bickering and the rest of the family gets a migraine from it. But something about this bickering is different, it’s almost like… flirting?
At the end of the night your too exhausted to stay up and listen to the adults blab on about business so you tell everyone good night and trail off to your tent.
Rafe was already there and you quietly unzip the tent but stop when you heart soft moans.
“Oh fuck” his voice is quiet but it’s audible for how close you are to the tent.
A smirk forms on your face as you decide to mess with Rafe yourself.
You sit there and listen to him touching himself when he says something that catches you off guard “oh y/n, shit right there”
Your eyes widen as you register what you just heard.
You unzip the tent and push inside, quickly closing it behind you and rushing to rafe.
“What the fuck Cameron!” You punch his arm as he scrambles to get dressed.
“Your disgusting” you go to turn around but are tugged back
“Come on. Don’t say you haven’t thought about it. All this love-hate game we got going is pretty fun, but let me have my own kinda fun now” he leans in to kiss you and for whatever reason you don’t move.
Rafes lips capture yours and it’s.. nice?
He softly groans against your mouth as you open wider and he sucks on your tongue.
“Fuck..” he breaths out as he pulls away.
“This doesn’t mean I don’t hate you”
You quickly tear off your cloths and watch Rafe do the same as you push him down and start straddling him.
“We have to be quiet”
You grasp his hard dick and stroke it a few times as he hisses at you. “Shit”
You smirk as you align it to your entrance and sink down “fuck, rafe”
You stay still for a moment as you try to adjust, but Rafe is impatient.
He sits up and grabs your ass before roughly slamming up into you.
You bite down on his shoulder as you try to keep quiet.
“Rafe” you whisper against his neck as he gets more viscous with his thrusts.
“Shit y/n, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck the best out of you”
You clench around his length as his confession
“Fuck! You like that don’t you. You little slut, like the idea of me disciplining you?” He gives your ass a little swat as you start rocking your hips.
“Shit, rafe” you grab your tits as you toy with the nipples and Rafe watches you with lustful eyes.
“I’m c-close!” You quietly moan as Rafe flips you over and slams into you repeatedly.
You clamp down onto his cock as he swells inside you.
“Fuck rafe, pull out!” You arch your back as your release nears.
“Shit shit shit” Rafe curses as he thrusts once, twice, and on the third time cums deep inside you.
He catches his breath before pulling out and his cum seeps out of you.
“What the fuck Cameron! I told you to pull out!” You whisper-yell as you push him off you and cover yourself with the blanket.
He runs his fingers through his hair and laughs as he lays down on the makeshift bed.
“You better get on birth control because I plan on doing that again”
@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx
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yeoja-dream · 8 months
Text
1+1=3
Pairing: Minsung x reader, jisung and leeknow x reader, leeknow x jisung Genre: Smut with light plot, AU, light fluff, comfort Characters: Han Jisung, LeeKnow/Lee Minho, Fem!Reader Content Warning: dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, dollification, praise, degradation, safe word use with after care Word Count: 6.5k
It had been a stressful week between work and school, and you drummed your fingers on your steering wheel in anticipation as you traveled to your boyfriend’s house for the weekend. Between your mutually busy schedules, you had to survive the week with random and scant flirty messages, cat pics, and 15-minute FaceTime calls, and it certainly was not enough. 
The city traffic finally relented, and finally, you found yourself in front of the apartment of your boyfriend, Lee Minho. Punching in the door code, you let yourself in. The apartment was modest, a two-bedroom place Minho shared with 3 cats and Jisung, his roommate and partner. The main area was an open-concept kitchen and living area that was currently unoccupied, save for Soonie who had jumped up when you entered and had begun brushing against your legs. 
“I’m home!” You called out, bending over to give the cat some attention. You walked further in, removing your shoes, dropping your overnight bag, and plopping on the couch. You had gotten up early to drive over and it was a relief to be here finally.
A few minutes later, Minho padded out barefoot, all messy air and bleary eyes, smiling from ear to ear. 
“Y/N!” He said with as much enthusiasm as his sleepy voice could produce. He extended his arms making a grabbing motion at you to come and hug him. He always acted like a big baby when he first woke up.  
“Hi baby,” You stood up, hugging him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. “Do not tell me you are just waking up! It’s passed noon!” 
He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Late night,” He said, voice raspy. 
“I can see that,” You said, looking him up and down. “You must be hungry, go sit and I’ll make something up. I bet Jisung is hungry too.” 
“I can make my own food,” He began to protest. 
“You hush,” You scold him, shooing him to the couch. “I know you can but let me take care of you.” He faux pouted, but he let you push him down as you walked into their shared kitchen. 
For a pair of boys, their kitchen is always well stocked. You put on a playlist of your favorite tunes and get to work. Nothing special you decided, a hearty omelet with some bacon and toast should more than suffice for the two of them. As you began cooking, you found yourself taken by the beat of the music, dancing in place and singing loudly as you mixed and stirred, but still managing to keep one eye out to keep the eggs from burning. 
You didn’t notice the way Minho looked at you, eyes full of amusement and adoration. You also didn’t notice when Jisung woke from his mid-day slumber. You noticed him very quickly, however, when you turned around and suddenly he was standing over your shoulder, scaring the crap out of you. 
“Jesus christ, Jisung!” You smacked his arm. “You scared the crap out of me!” Somewhere on the couch, you heard Minho’s unmistakable laugh. 
“I was just curious what you were cooking! You didn’t answer me when I asked!” He said, holding his hands up defensively. 
“Bacon and eggs,” You said, turning him around and giving him a light push towards the couch. “Go sit with Minho you know I hate having people in the kitchen when I’m cooking.” Jisung shuffled in the direction you pointed him mumbling something in acceptance as you got back to work. 
Han Jisung was the other partner of your boyfriend. The two had met and started dating long before you met Minho, since high school if Minho was to be believed. The pair lived together, worked together, and spent almost every waking moment together. When you had first visited the apartment, you laughed to yourself about the seemingly completely superfluous need for separate bedrooms for a couple that otherwise did everything together. 
You had met Minho 2 years back when you were a freshman in college, he a junior. Initially, you had started off as classmates, and later, friends, bonding over your shared hatred for your dickhead organic chemistry professor and late-night study sessions. His long-term partner was no secret to you, which is what made his confession to you a year after you had met all the more unexpected. Of course, you had slowly found yourself falling for him. Outside of his sarcastic, cool, no-fun exterior was a man on the inside who was brilliantly witty, felt deeply, and had intense passion and empathy for the things and people he loved. You had also, however, resolved to keep your feelings to yourself and made peace with the fact that the two of you as a couple would never be. 
It was in the music room late one night. Despite it not being related to your major, Minho had convinced you to take a music theory class so he could share the thing that he loved with you. You had asked him to meet you and help you prepare for a listening exam, but the two of you spent two hours talking and goofing off on the piano. As the night was winding down and you were getting ready to go back to your dorm, he stopped you and confessed to you. He told you about his feelings, how he found himself attracted to you, how he adored the way you snorted when you laughed really hard, how he loved your passion for your field, how caring and considerate you were, and how he had hoped you felt the same way. 
To say it caught you off guard would be an understatement. Of course, the feelings were mutual, but his relationship with Jisung made things complicated. You had met Jisung, befriended him. You had been to their home, you saw how they interacted, how they seemed to be made for each other, and you wondered how you could possibly fit into that. 
In the following days, you talked a lot with Minho about what being together would look like. About needs and boundaries, about communication and jealousy. You’d take it slow, you both agreed and from that day on, you had become a couple. 
In the year or so that had passed since then, you had grown a lot as a couple. Of course, it helped that you had grown a close relationship with Jisung as well. He was cute, super silly but an insanely deep thinker and wise far beyond his years. On nights Minho was gone, the two of you would spend hours making silly songs and then singing them in ridiculous voices, playing board games, and talking about the bigger, scarier things in life. He had become your closest friend and confidant, and slowly, your worries about feeling like an outsider in your own relationship dissipated as you realized that love was not a finite commodity. Your worries about fracturing the close relationship between the pair relaxed too as it had become clear that being with you was not a sacrifice, and more often than not, involved doing whatever they were doing anyways but including you. 
The rules your relationship had been built on in the last few months, however, had become steadily more and more shaky. Originally, you and Jisung agreed to be purely platonic friends. You were limited and respectful with each other about physical intimacy, even keeping acts like hugs quick and on rare occasions. It was then also agreed, naturally, that there would be no acts of intimacy as a group. Slowly, however, those strict boundaries seemed to loosen and a comfortable, non-sexual intimacy had blossomed between both you and Jisung, and the three of you as a group. Jisung gave amazing hugs, and cuddle piles on Minho’s bed while you all watched Netflix were simply heaven. It was from the dissolution of those boundaries that you found yourself torn. In the privacy of your own mind, you could admit that you had developed a crush on Jisung. Some nights when the three of you were cozy in bed, you found yourself needing to resist the urge to plant a kiss on Jisung’s cute, sleepy face as you would run your fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. On the other hand, your dynamic was good, great even. Minho spoiled you. He loved you in a quieter way, preferring to silently send you DoorDash from your favorite restaurant on really hard days or be an attentive ear when you needed to get something off your chest. He was the type to keep a list of things you love on his phone, places, things, experiences, anything you had exclaimed you loved he wrote down. When you first caught him doing so, you called him on it and he told you simply that he wanted you to have everything, the world if you so desired, and that he would give it to you. You loved him too, and you would love him for as long as he would let you. It felt wrong, selfish even, to ask for more. For you, Minho was more than enough. 
You slid two identical plates piled high with omelet, bacon, toast, and some home fries you had found in the back of the freezer. 
“Food’s done!” You said in a sing-songy voice before turning to head back to the kitchen to clean up. Before you could, however, Minho had gotten up and in a flash, positioned himself between you and the sink, his arms crossed. 
“Every time you cook we do the same thing,” He scolded. “When have either of us let you clean after you cook for us?” 
“Fine,” you sighed dramatically. You filled a small bowl with the remaining home fries and plopped down to join the boys at the breakfast table. 
Conversation was light over what was, at that time, ostensibly lunch, rather than breakfast. And, despite immense protest from you, the boys cleaned up after your cooking mess with relative efficiency. 
It was a beautiful, tepid day outside, and the three of you agreed to head to the local park where you spent hours appreciating the weather, nature, and each other’s company. Before long, it was time for dinner. You all went back and forth, bickering about dinner options, and finally, just decided to order a pizza. You had a long-standing tradition, dating back to your first official date with Minho. The two of you couldn’t agree on what to have for dinner, finally settling on pizza and agreeing that no one could dislike pizza. From then on when you couldn’t agree on dinner, you’d order a pizza. 
The pizza was enjoyed and eaten on the couch, yet another inane reality dating show with a bizarre twist on the TV to act as conversation fodder. After the episode's conclusion, ever the cat-fanatic, Minho turned on the Playstation and you and Jisung watched him play Stray, the two of you mostly pointing to things in the environment and commanding him to investigate, much to Minho’s playful dismay. 
As the night wound down, the three of you decided to call it a night, Jisung heading to his room, you and Minho heading off to his. You had already changed into your sleepwear, an oversized t-shirt and panties, when you slipped into bed next to Minho, who was already in bed, passively scrolling on his phone. You slid your arm across his torso, pulling yourself towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. From this angle, you were able to see his phone clearly, growing bored immediately as you realize he was browsing the specifications of different audio controllers. Quickly, your mind filled with ulterior motives. After the stressful week you had, you wanted nothing more to be filled and pounded into a quivering, babbling mess by your boyfriend. The mental image alone had your stomach doing backflips. 
Taking initiative, you tuned your head to the side and began kissing his neck. Minho continued his scrolling, not reacting, so you went further, licking and sucking the sensitive skin gently. That too, elicited no response. In return, you rolled over in a huff, turning your back to him, and pulling the covers up high. At your antics, Minho chuckled deep and low. 
“Did you want something from me?” He asked nonchalantly. 
You sighed deeply again. “Do I really need to spell it out?” You retorted.
“Ah, but what am I always telling you about using your words?” He asked. With your back still turned, you heard the singular knock of his phone as he placed it on the nightstand followed by the crinkling of the bed sheets as he rolled over towards you, spooning your body with his. Almost directly into your ear this time, he speaks again. “What is it exactly that you wanted, lovely?” 
You weighed briefly weighed your feigned offense versus the growing ache in your core in your mind. You could continue to pout, but you knew damn well he wouldn’t lay a finger on you until you acquiesced to his demands. 
“Your cock,” You mumbled. 
“Mhm,” He said approvingly, running his hand up and down your arm. “And what is it you want me to do with my cock?” 
“Fuck me,” You arched your back, hoping to grind your ass against his member. “Please,” You added. 
He chucked again, placing a few light kisses on your shoulder blade. “Someone is needy,” He commented, his tone amused. Suddenly, however, he pulled away from you and you felt the bed shift as he stood. You sat up now, facing him directly as he stood now in the middle of the room. 
“Truthfully,” He began, “I was going to get you warmed up before I went through with tonight’s plan but, I think it will be more fun this way.” He said, turning on a heel and walking out of the room before you could question or protest. Not but 60 seconds later he returned, a very confused Jisung in tow.
“Go sit,” The older boy said, gesturing towards the bed. 
With an awkward and jerky gait, Jisung obeyed, sitting on the foot of the bed on the right side, the same side on which you were currently sat. 
“I can see you both are confused, but first, Y/N, what are our safewords?” Minho asked, standing over the two of you. 
“Red, yellow, green,” you reply quickly. “Red stop, yellow slow down and check-in, green good.”
“And Jisungie, what are our safewords?”
“Um, red yellow green. Same system.” He replied, looking off to the side, whether in embarrassment or discomfort, you couldn’t quite discern. 
“Very good.” He purred. “I’m going to take care of you both, but to do that I need to know that you understand you can use those safe words at any time. Can you do that for me?”
Your instinct was to simply nod, but you quickly remember that Minho always asks for verbal confirmation. “Yes,” You said, your confusion continuing to grow. 
“Of course,” Jisung confirmed. 
“Excellent,” Minho said, wordlessly prowling around to the left side of the bed. He climbed in, sliding himself into a seated position with his back against the headboard. Remaining in your respective spots, you both orient your bodies to face him as he does so, expectantly waiting explanation of the sudden intrusion. 
“I learned a secret about our Jisungie recently,” Minho cooed, looking first at the younger boy, and then at you. 
“Jisung?” You asked, confused. You turned your head to look at him, and as you did so, you watched his eyes go wide with realization. He looked down, burning holes into the sheets with his eyes. Despite realizing whatever Minho was about to confess on his behalf, he didn’t stop him from continuing. 
“Did you know that when I fuck you,” Minho continued, “and you make all of those lovely, desperate, needy sounds?” 
“I, uh, yeah?” You replied, voice squeaky. It was your turn to go red with embarrassment as you pulled your legs in close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them comfortingly. 
“Well, Jisungie has been listening to you beg and moan, stroking his cock and imaging it was his cock you were stretched out over,” Minho said, his expression wolfish. 
The image comes to your mind crystal clear, Jisung splayed wide open, his hand on his cock, his head thrown back in ecstasy, the sounds of your pleasure throwing him over the edge. It sends your heart racing and your stomach somersaulting. 
 “The walls are thin and-” Jisung attempts to defend himself, looking at you desperately searching your face for signs of rejection. Only when he’s sure he finds none does he continue. “You’re so cute and pretty and nice, Y/N, and listening to how good Hyung was making you feel made me imagine the two of you and suddenly I uh,” He paused finding the word. “Needed to relieve myself. I’m sorry that’s probably really weird of me. I know I shouldn’t have been listening I’m sorry once I started it was hard to stop and I feel really strongly for you Y/N in maybe ways a friend shouldn’t feel and…” He rambled on. 
Was he confessing to you? You asked yourself. “Jisung,” You addressed him directly, cutting off his apologetic word vomit. “Are you saying you like like me?” 
“Yeah?” His voice was squeaky, unsure, not of his feelings, but of your reaction. 
“I like like you, too,” You blurted, relieved. “I have for a little while,” you confessed. 
“Me too!” Jisung said in complete shock. 
“I do love it when my loves get along,” Minho spoke up. “But I know another secret about Jisung.” 
Whatever it was it couldn’t have been as much as a bombshell as the first. Even Jisung looked at him with an eyebrow quirked. 
“Jisung has never been with a woman,” He stated. “He sucks my cock beautifully and on occasion fucks me pretty thoroughly too, but I thought we could teach Jisung how to make you make all those lovely sounds you make for me, how does that sound, beautiful?” 
“G-Good,” You said, your voice dry. 
“Good,” Minho dawled. “Jisungie?” 
“Please,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Good,” He purred again. “Good boys and girls who listen well get to cum, but those who can’t listen get punished, understand?” 
“Yes,” The two of you responded. 
“You are both so good at using your words, let's keep that up.” He stated, looking at the two of you. “Y/N, why don’t you kiss Jisung?” 
Wordlessly, you unwrapped yourself and crawled to the foot of the bed where Jisung was still seated. He turned his whole body to face you, and as you brought your face in close to his, you paused just millimeters away, teasing him for just a moment before closing the distance. 
Your lips gently met his, soft, plump, and full of nervous energy. It’s cute, you decided, taking the lead and kissing him again but harder. Jisung matches your energy, and despite his nerves to be kissing you , you quickly realize he is not an inexperienced kisser. As the kiss heats up in passion and intensity, he follows. You both used your tongues sparingly but tactfully, excitedly exploring and experiencing one another. Through it all you both manage to keep your hands off one another, not having been given permission to touch. 
“You may touch,” Minho finally allowed after what felt like an eternity. 
Jisung was sat cross-legged on the bed, and you were still on your hands and knees facing him. With Minho’s verbal permission granted, you parted briefly only to climb into his lap facing him, legs fully straddling his waist. In this position, you could press your chest against his chest, and your dampening core against the tent in his pajama pants. The increased contact made you both more heated, feverish. At first, your hands were wild running over his arms, then his chest, then his back. His body was lithe, all corded in lean musculature, you marveled at how toned he felt under your fingertips despite his thin frame. At the same time, Jisung’s hands explored your bodily readily, starting in the safe places, rubbing first your arms, then your back and sides, before coming around to cup a breast. Using his thumb, he drew lazy circles around your nipple, the sensation causing you to sigh with satisfaction. You kissed again, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and crushing your chest against his. He wrapped his arms around low around your waist, using the leverage to rhythmically rock you against his core. The contact was relatively minimal considering the two layers of clothes in between, but the sensation was already causing him to blush and pant. 
“Fucking gorgeous,” Minho approved from behind you. Before things could go too much further, however, he called your name, interrupting. “Y/N, Come sit, back to me,” He instructed, patting the space on the bed in between his parted legs. 
You do as you are told, your back resting against his chest in a reclined seated position. 
“Arms up,” Minho again commanded. As you comply, he lifts your oversized t-shirt up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed except for your panties. Jisung stared, his eyes transfixed and hungry. He didn’t dare move. The attention makes you shy, but you know better than to cover up.
“Give me a color, sweetness,” He asked you directly. 
“Green,” You breathed. 
“Jisung?” 
“Huh? Oh, super green.” He said, blinking hard, clearing something from his mind. 
“I am also green,” Minho confirmed. “Now for this part, my love, all I need you to do is be a perfect little doll for Jisungie, remember we are teaching him how to make you feel good. You can make all the noises you’d like but you may not move, guide him, or if he does a good enough job, cum until I allow you, do you understand?” 
“Yes,” You breathed. 
“Yes, what?” He asked you again. 
“Yes, sir .” You added. 
Seemingly satisfied, he turned his attention to Jisung. 
“Jisung aren’t Y/N’s tits gorgeous?” Minho asked, reaching around and taking both breasts in his hands as if presenting them to him. You sighed at the warmth of his palms. 
“Yeah-” Jisung agreed, his voice hoarse. 
“The thing is, her nipples are pretty sensitive,” He began, shifting his hand placement slightly to trap your nipples between his thumb and forefingers, applying minimal pressure. “So the first way to make her make those noises you love is like this,” He punctuated his sentence by increasing the pressure of his fingers, rolling the sensitive skin in between. The sensation catches you off guard and you squeak in surprise, but ultimately relax and moan quietly at the feeling. 
“Come play with her tits,” Minho invited, dropping both breasts. You watch Jisung almost fall over himself scrambling to make his way over to you. He kissed you first, briefly, however as he moved on to peppering shorter kisses down your jaw and neck, all the way down to your chest. He took one breast in his hand, repeating the light rolling motion the older man had shown him, but with the other breast, he enveloped the nipple with his mouth, licking and sucking with eagerness. After a few minutes, he switched, showing the opposite side the same attention. You groaned at the feeling, letting your head relax back against Minho’s chest. 
“Good boy,” Minho praised. “But look,” 
The command made Jisung drop his hands and pull away, waiting to hear what exactly he was meant to be looking at. 
“Her panties are soaked, do you know what that means?” 
“I’m doing a good job?” Jisung replied tentatively. 
“Precisely,” Minho cooed. “Hips up,” He addressed you now. You do so without hesitation. “Take her panties off,” He spoke again to Jisung. 
Jisung pulled back a bit, giving himself a bit more room to hook his thumbs around the fabric and pull it down and off, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Minho then grabbed both of your legs one by one, lifting them up and out, placing them on the outside of his legs. From this position, even if you wanted to close your legs, you would be entirely blocked from doing so by Minho’s legs. In this position, you were pinned wide open for Jisung to see and appreciate, and appreciate Jisung indeed did. He stared at your dripping core like a man starved, and it was making you dizzy with desire. 
Minho reached down, using one hand to part your folds and the other to find the bundle of nerves. He does so quickly and easily, drawing painfully slow circles around the area. You want to protest, to beg for more, but you know better. 
“Got you are fucking soaked,” Minho groaned into your ear before addressing Jisung again. “This is the clit, if you want to make Y/N cum, this spot is really important.” He withdrew his finger and moved it lower, dipping it into your core. “Down here is her pussy. When you finger her, curve your fingers like this,” He demonstrated, lazily pumping a single curved finger in and out of your entrance. Your nerves are on fire , and even with one, unenthusiastic finger, you find yourself clenching around his finger and groaning, mentally screaming for more. Minho laughs darkly at you, “Ah, you just wait you haven’t earned it yet.” He looked up at Jisung, “The G-spot is what you’re aiming for, it's the spot on top that feels a little different than the rest.” With that, he withdrew both of his hands. “Jisungie, you suck my cock so well, why don’t you try eating Y/N out? You’ll know you’re doing it right by her reaction. Once you find it though, don’t stop.” 
A new wave of nerves clearly hits Jisung as he is now completely out of his element. Making out and sucking nipples was easy, everyone had them. Slowly he lowered himself, positioning himself comfortably between your legs. He parted your folds gingerly, and after taking a calming breath, stuck his tongue out exploratively. He took to your clit quickly, but his movements were decidedly slow. He took his time mapping and exploring, memorizing the points that made you gasp and jerk. Once he had found the best spot, he built up a shocking and punishing pace with his tongue, one that had your back arching against Minho’s chest. 
“Ah, fuCK-” You gasped, your hands white-knuckled in the sheets.
“Give her two fingers,” Minho instructed. Without breaking tempo, Jisung slid two fingers in, rocking them into you at a slow, deliberate, tempo, dragging his fingertips against the nerves of your g-spot, making you clench tight around them. The juxtaposition between his fingers and his mouth was divine, putting your full focus on pushing down the growing tightness in your core. You make the mistake, however, of looking down, the sinful sight of Jisung’s pretty face buried between your thighs and the wet, squelching sounds of your pussy greedily milking his fingers combined suddenly bring you much closer to the edge than you expected, in serious danger of careening off the edge without permission. 
“I- ah- cum! Please!” Was all you managed to get out. 
“Ah but princess, I wanted you to cum all over Jisung’s pretty cock, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum now.” 
“I can- fUCK, I can go twice,” You offer up, anything to negotiate your release. 
“Hmm,” He paused, thinking to himself. 
Think faster! You thought to yourself. 
“It’s a special day and I’m feeling generous, you can go ahead and cum baby but you still have to show Jisungie how pretty you are when you’re making a mess all over his cock.” He drawled, brushing a stray hair from your face and planting a kiss on your temple. 
With permission granted, and no more than 3 more pumps of Jisung’s fingers, you are coming, eyes closed head back, arched back, shaking and cussing through the shock waves. Jisung removes his fingers and backs off of you, and you allow yourself to fall back onto Minho, eyes closed, chest heaving as you recover. There are several seconds of silence followed by the sound of something wet, and when you open your eyes, you look up and instantly, you feel your core reignite at the sight. 
They were kissing , sloppily and messily, the shine of your slick still wet on Jisung’s lips. Minho, with his only free hand, palmed the boy’s erection through his pants while he whimpered, his arms dangling at his sides. The sight was beautiful and dirty and made your toes curl with desire. 
Minho gave Jisung a light push, pulling away from the younger boy. “I should punish you for moving without permission, but you still have another job to do, so I will let it slide. Clothes off,” He commanded. 
Jisung wordlessly obeyed, and while doing so, Minho sat you forward slightly, giving him room to peel off his own shirt and adjust your positioning. 
“He’s going fuck you really good baby, but this angle doesn’t quite work. Just lay here and enjoy I’m going to be right beside you appreciating the view.” He said, picking up your hand and placing a kiss on the knuckle. You do as he says, and after a minute, Jisung returns, giving you the chance to drink in his naked form. 
He wasn’t the tallest man, but damn was he nice and proportional. His cock was thick and flushed a lovely shade of pink at the tip, which was already glistening with precum. 
“Now Y/N does give fantastic head, however, today is about you learning so it’s time to fuck her. A gentleman always lets his lady cum first, so pace yourself. You may only cum after she does, understood?” Minho asked Jisung. 
“Y-Yes,” Jisung said, climbing back on the bed, initially kneeling in front of your feet. He nudged your legs open tentatively, and you complied. He came in closer then, kissing you again. Instinctively, you wrapped both arms around him. This kiss lacked the heat it did before, but this time contained a new, distinct feeling of intense care and passion. It was gentle, loving, sweet, even, and it caused your chest to ache. He was losing his virginity all over again, you realized, and it made you hold him a little closer. He continued to kiss you as you felt his cock probe your folds before sliding it home at last. Instinctively, he threw his head back and groaned, inch by delicious inch, the stretch of your cunt around his cock tip to hilt had you both gasping. 
You wondered for a moment what his plan was, it was obvious to anyone in the room that he was near the edge, and how he planned to make you cum before him and escape punishment piqued your curiosity. You didn’t have to wonder for long. 
He pulled up and away from you a bit, cock still buried deep inside you. He pulled up one of your legs up high, resting it on one of his shoulders. His hands found purchase on the wall and bed frame. This new position was significantly less intimate than the one before but allowed for a much better range of motion. He withdrew from you almost entirely and then snapped forward, the force of which had both your head hitting the headboard and an audible slapping sound as your pelvises collided. He pulled out again, and with the same force slammed into you. His pace was slow but incredibly consistent but hard . Sensitive from coming already, you found yourself gripping the sheets, the coil in your core winding up once again. Jisung was remarkably quiet save for his heavy breathing, his face was serious and his eyebrows were furrowed with concentration. Jisung took his hand off the headboard and snaked it in between your legs, rubbing and circling your clit in the same way Minho had shown him previously. The added sensation had you writhing under him, another orgasm quickly building. Jisung sucked in air through his teeth and groaned as your walls milked his cock, but again and again, he slammed into you. You were getting close, everyone could tell. 
“Cum, baby,” Minho told you again peppering your face with sweet kisses. 
“Please,” Jisung begged, his release painfully close for him. 
You were so close, babbling and begging to no one in particular, and yet you still couldn’t quite crest over that edge. Jisung growled suddenly in frustration, taking his spare hand from the wall and wrapping it around your throat. 
“You’re such a dumb cock slut that you can’t do what you’re fucking told? When you are told to cum, you fucking cum.” Jisung said through gritted teeth, staring daggers through you. He applied no pressure with his hand on your throat, but the sudden shift to dom Jisung sends you careering violently over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you in waves, made even more intense by the rapid pounding and merciless pounding Jisung was now doing, chasing his own release which too found him momentarily, his head throwing back in ecstasy and filling you thoroughly. 
Jisung pulled out of you, but in a blur, Minho was on top of you, fucking you hard and fast. Oversensitive from having just orgasmed, it was far, far too much, tears beginning to pickle in your eyes.
“Tuh… tuh much…” You babble, rather incoherently. 
Minho continued fucking into you at breakneck speed, but his words were all encouragement, how beautiful you looked, how amazing you did, how good you felt, how close he was, and how good you were making him feel. Regardless, the overstimulation was turning rapidly into pain and you needed a break. 
“Y-Yellow,” You breathed. 
Immediately Minho slowed to a stop, pulling his cock out of you and watching your face carefully. 
“Do we need to stop? You did beautifully, you don’t have to push yourself anymore.” He caressed your face with the back of his hand and brushed away sweat-drenched hair. As overstimulated as you felt with him fucking you, the sensation of his cock pulling out sends you over and a couple of tears actually spill over. 
“No no this will not do,” Minho says wiping away your tears, getting off of you. “Today isn’t a day for tears, come on, let’s draw up a bubble bath and I’ll rub your back with the lavender essential oil.” He starts to get up. 
“No!” you almost shout, grabbing his wrist. 
Jisung, having finally recovered, was a frequent bottom and recognized the exact thing you were currently feeling. He sits back in bed, sitting next to you. He picks up your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“You wanna be good for Minho, huh, kitten?” 
“Yeah,” You said, nodding enthusiastically. 
“You wanna cum for him and make him feel really good, right? Make a mess all over his cock like you did all over mine?” 
“Wanna cum,” you agreed. 
“You have to tell him that, kitten,” Jisung said kissing your face softly. 
“I wanna cum, please. I wanna be good. I wanna make you feel good, too.” You begged Minho. He kissed you softly. 
“You’ve been so good, princess. I’m going to take really good care of you, okay? Lift your hips, please.” As you did so, he slid a pillow underneath, changing the angle so that when he slides back into you, he hit your g spot every single time . The break short was precisely what you needed, and as Minho fucks you again, the oversensitive feeling has already dissipated and the relentless assault on your g-spot brings you rapidly close to yet another orgasm. 
Jisung is at your side now, and as Minho is all sweet nothings and praise, Jisung’s mouth is fucking filthy . “I just filled you up with cum and you still can get enough, huh? One cock isn’t enough, you have to have two, how greedy.” He remarks, his tone patronizing but undercut by the delicate way he holds and kisses you. 
It isn’t long after your third and final orgasm hits you like a semi. Feeling your walls relax and contract around him sends Minho off of his precipice too as he unloads into you. 
Minho rolls off of you and collapses on the bed, silence cut by your heavy breathing settling in as you all recuperate. 
“That… was amazing,” Minho said between breaths. 
“You can say that again.” Jisung agreed. “I’m not a virgin anymore!” 
“You weren’t a virgin before,” Minho pointed out. 
“Well I’m not a virgin again ,” Jisung said with a pout. “I lost it twice.” 
Minho laughed at him. “Y/N was the star of the show.” He said, rubbing your leg and looking at you fondly. “And tell Jisung he can’t be a double non-virgin.” 
“I can’t disagree,” Jisung said, kissing you. “Wait yes I can, to the second thing you said though. Tell him I can so be a double non-virgin!”
You were thoroughly exhausted and still sub-spacy, but you still managed to laugh at the boyish antics of the man in front of you. “Jisung can be whatever he wants to be,” You fake-scolded Minho. “What happened to Dom Jisung?” You asked with a small laugh. 
“Yes!” Jisung celebrated. “Oh, he came and went,” He said with a wink. 
Both you and Minho groaned at that one. 
“In seriousness, I’m sorry that just kind of came out of me, I didn’t expect it myself to be honest! I wish we had talked about it before and I didn’t spring it on you.” 
“You’re probably right that we should have talked about it, but it is alright. Obviously, I ended up responding to it.” You replied with a laugh. “Thanks for not choking me without talking about it first.” 
“Psh,” he blew you off. “What do I look like, some 50 shades of grey Daddy Dom? Even my sudden subconscious dom side knew that!” 
You giggled at him, finally finding the strength to sit up a little bit. Your abs ached, and you were pretty sure your legs had turned to jello. 
“Hey Y/N?” Jisung asked suddenly, his tone much more serious. 
“Yeah, what's up?” 
“If I can be whatever I want, is there I chance I can be your boyfriend?” 
The vulnerability in his tone breaks your fucking heart. “Of course baby, but it’s not just my decision. We’d have to ask Minho too.” You looked at him expectantly. 
“Who me? The two people I love the most also love each other, sound pretty cool to me.” Minho said with a shrug. 
“Then it’s settled, boyfriend .” You said with a wink. 
He tackled you in a hug kissing all over your face. “I’m so happy!” 
You pat him affectionately but push him gently off. “Careful there I’m covered in enough cum as it is you’re getting more on me!” You whined. 
“Oh right, sorry!” He acquiesced. 
A couple beats of silence passed before you spoke up again. 
“So someone said something about a bubble bath?”
_____________________________________
Hi! Thanks for reading and supporting as always, I hope you enjoyed <3
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loveharlow · 5 months
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SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - KISS IT BETTER
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.5k] Three weeks of no John B or Sarah and you're officially overwhelmed with grief and mixed signals, leading to an emotional outburst directed at certain blonde.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mutual pining, grief avoidance, little fluff, mentions of low self-esteem/negative self-image, mentions of past non-con
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ I think this chapter is actually so soft and beautiful🥺 and I never really say this but I do think listening to the song on repeat as you read makes it one hundred times better.
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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THIS DAY MARKED THREE WEEKS SINCE YOU’D LOST JOHN B AND SARAH…And one week since JJ kissed you out of nowhere. Co-existing in your other presumed dead best friend’s house has been…odd, to say the least. You didn’t really know how to talk to JJ now, which was something you never thought would be an issue.
He’d been in the surf shack working on your car more than usual, without your company unfortunately. You’d been taking more small jobs just to get out of the house at this point. But barely talking to your best friend for an entire week while living in the same space was starting to take a toll on you.
And so was the kiss.
Did he mean to do it? Was it a spur of the moment thing? Did JJ have feelings for you? Ten thousand thoughts running around in your mind at once, driving you closer and closer to the edge of crazy. Your heart was telling you that the kiss was no accident — that it seemed too passionate and eager to be something he’d done in the heat of the moment. But your head was telling you that the kiss was an act of grief — something he’d done in a moment where his head wasn’t exactly screwed on straight.
That it was an honest mistake.
You didn’t know which part of you that you believed.
Or which part of you that you wanted to believe.
It was nightfall when you walked up the steps of The Chateau, bag slung lazily over your shoulder as you huffed out a puff of air, exhausted from your nearly ten hour long babysitting gig. Some couple needed someone to watch over their three kids while they went on a date. You should’ve known something was off when the mother was offering fifty dollars an hour, way over minimum wage — her three kids were more like a pint-sized trio of bats from hell. But you walked away with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket, so who were you to complain?
But even with fatigue and hunger weighing heavy on your bones, your heart still dropped at the thought of seeing JJ at the end of the day.
Sighing, you quietly opened the door of the home, throwing your bag on the sofa and letting the door close behind you as Marley immediately came charging, light paws feeling like punches on your thighs but you smiled nonetheless.
“Hi, pretty girl. How are you?” You cooed, scratching behind both of her ears as she wiggled against you.
Another set of footsteps rounded the corner, a freshly awoken JJ coming into your view. You coughed awkwardly under your breath, straightening out as the two of you locked eyes. “Oh, hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’m just glad you made it in before it got too late, one of the corner stores got robbed a couple hours ago.” He said, voice raspy and low from sleep as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes.
The two of you stood there awkwardly— JJ scratching the back of his head as you averted your eyes anywhere else, Marley’s panting filling the silence.
You took a deep breath, shoving your hands in the back of your pockets as JJ mindlessly nibbled on his lower lip. You took the opportunity to break the silence, the blonde seemingly having the same idea.
“Well, I’m gonna get ready for bed-”
“Look, I’m sorry-”
You both stopped talking, attempting to allow the other to speak. Small smiles broke out on your faces, the two of you looking down at your feet simultaneously. “This is awkward, if I’ve ever seen it…” JJ huffed out humorously. “Can we just…like, sit down and talk, for a minute?” He asked, his own words making him cringe slightly as he motioned towards the battered sofa.
You nodded, not saying a word as you plopped down on the piece of furniture, eyes on the floor as your hands held each other in your lap. JJ sat down oddly slow next to you. You expected him to try and create as much distance between the two of you as possible but surprisingly, he sat so close that your shoulders were brushing in the tiniest of ways.
The unexpectedness of it all had your brows furrowing, finding some kind of courage to look the boy in his eyes as he finally settled on the right words to say.
“...I shouldn’t have kissed you.” For some reason, the string of words made your heart tremble and your lips parted in surprise. They hurt more than you ever expected them to. Noticing your solemn expression, JJ was quick to clean up his statement, turning in his seat to look at you completely. “Not in the sense that I didn’t want to, no, God no.” He sputtered, hands moving around wildly. “It’s just that, with everything going on, I don't think that moment was the best moment to act on my feelings-”
He was cut off when you lurched forward, colliding your lips with his in the heat of the moment. In your haste and his surprise, the blonde accidentally bit your lip but you didn’t mind, never breaking the exchange. After a moment, you both seemed to settle into it — one of his hands sliding around your hip and waist to find a home on the end of your back, pulling you closer in the smallest motion. Your own hands cradled his jaw on each side, pulling him deeper into you.
You kissed that boy until you couldn’t anymore. Until your lips were swollen and wet, your head spinning as you pulled back and let your hands fall, sliding down the length of his neck and shoulders while his own hand slid back to rest on your thigh.
“...What was that for?” He asked in a whisper. He sounded breathless.
You simply gulped, tucking a small strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “...When you kissed me, I felt something. Something I didn’t think I should feel while kissing my best friend. Because I never thought I’d be kissing my best friend at all.” You explained, elevating your gaze to meet his eyes. “And I thought to myself that I should feel repulsed. That the kiss should feel wrong. Right? But nothing about that kiss felt wrong.” You told him. “I haven’t been avoiding you because of the kiss, JJ. I’ve been avoiding you because I haven’t been able to get the thought of kissing you again out of my head since it happened.”
“And now that you have?” He asked, eyes searching yours. “Now, that you have kissed me again?”
“...I’m struggling not to do it a third time.” You breathed out, eyes fleeting towards his lips for the slightest of moments. “I don’t know what this is. In my head, you’re my absolute best friend and I love you in that aspect but everytime I see you now, I can’t help but think about you in ways that I shouldn’t. So, if that kiss or this one didn’t mean anything to you, you’d better tell me now because-”
“Oh, it meant something.” He cut you off enthusiastically, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I know you probably have no idea but that kiss meant everything to me.” He told you, edging closer on the sofa. “I’ve had this huge crush on you for, like, ever. Probably since I even knew what a crush was. But you know how I am…” He lowered his voice, avoiding your eyes. “I didn’t trust myself with you. Anytime I look at you, I see this ball of light around you and I never want it to go away. Or be the reason for it going away. With me and all my shit…”
“I don’t think of you like that.” You said honestly, a small frown on your face. “You aren’t some southside screw up or a charity case. JJ, you know that I don’t care about all that. I’m always there to walk through it with you, your life doesn’t define you, you know that. Or at least, you should.” You told the blonde, running a soft hand through his hair. “And I know that it may take some time for you to believe that for yourself but I’ll be the one to tell you it everyday until you actually hear it, as a friend or…whatever else.”
You reminded the boy, biting your lower lip in thought. “...That’s why you never said anything? Because you thought you weren’t good for me?”
He seemed to ponder on the statement before nodding, somewhat shamefully. “I mean, c'mon, look at you.” He scoffed, wide blue eyes looking at your face with so much adoration and purity that you never cared to notice before. “Someone like you doesn’t need to waste her life away trying to love someone like me.”
“I do love you-”
“Not in the way that I love you.” He blurted, pinching his eyes shut as he cut you off.
“...I could. But you’ll never know if you don’t let me try.” You told him. “I won’t sit here and tell you that I love you in that way because I really don’t know. But whatever I’m starting to feel for you is beyond a friendship and once I figure that out, who knows? But I also don’t want you to wait on me to figure things out if that’s not what you want.” You concluded, retreating your hands back to the comfort of your lap.
You don’t know how helpless you looked, but you made no attempt to hide the frown that you could feel on your face. You knew JJ was known as promiscuous but his ways seemed to have settled with everything that’s happened. Although the thought of him with anyone made your gut turn, you didn’t want to confine him within the cage of your emotional contemplation. You didn’t want to lead him on now knowing how he felt about you.
“Hey,” He started, a hand on your arm. “I will wait. And that’s my choice. If you decide that you want me, that you want this, then I will be here. I know my past actions are probably making my words seem like a load of shit right now, but weeks ago? When I was hooking up with half the island? I was under the impression that you and I would never happen. But now there’s a chance.” He spoke, laughing at the end of his sentence, the oddness of the action making your face twist. “Sorry, I just, I thought about somethin'.” He said, waving himself off. “I was talking to Bree one day, about you. I told him that the odds of you ever liking me back were one in a million. And he told me that a one in a million chance is still a chance, to which I told him that he was full of shit. But now…” He trailed off, shrugging.
“...John B knew?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. JJ rolled his eyes playfully.
“I think everyone knew, except you, of course.” He cocked an eyebrow, you being the one to roll your eyes this time. 
“...So what do we do now?” You asked, voice small.
JJ sighed, suddenly sitting up straighter in his seat and taking both of your hands in his own. “...As much as I want to make you my girlfriend, right here and right now, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think that we both need time to grieve and sort ourselves and I also think that you need time to explore your feelings more and make sure that this isn’t a fluke.” That was the most mature sentence you'd ever heard leave JJ's lips.
“A fluke?” You asked, mildly offended. “What does that mean?”
“Just that, I’ve seen how you can deal with grief. And not to twist the knife…are you okay with me talking about the…Rafe thing?” You clenched your jaw at the mere mention of his name, nodding stiffly in JJ’s direction, the boy drawing his lips into a thin line before continuing. “When that happened, you were still grieving. You kissed him because you were in a bad place and he was there and he ended up...taking advantage of that vulnerable part of you, right?” You hummed in agreement. “I am not at all blaming you for what happened when I say this. You didn’t deserve it and that asshole should be six feet under for what he did and, God so help me, I will put him there myself-”
“JJ.” You interrupted the boy’s rant, wanting him to finish his point completely. Huffing out a puff of air, he continued.
“I’m sorry. I just, I really hate that that happened to you. And I know it happened to you, not me but I want to kill him. Every day that I wake up, I just hope he's dead somewhere.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.” You reassured.
“But all I’m trying to say is that, I don’t want to repeat that same cycle — taking advantage of your emotional state. I want you to be yourself again and be in the right space before trying to take this any further. And I want you to have no doubts and be completely sure.” You understood his point of view and his reasoning behind it. Nodding, you allowed him to finish his sentence. “So, for now? We can just figure things out, set some kinda boundaries, if you want.”
You thought about it for a moment, fingers drawing shapes on one of his hands. “...Just honesty. If you kiss someone, hook up with someone…” The words made your eyes twitch. “Just don’t let me find out from someone else.”
“Oh, I can promise you that I have no one else on my mind, especially now that I know I’m on yours, so there will be nothing to tell ‘n nothin’ to find out, m’lady.” He smiled, saluting towards you. “I’m all yours, even if you aren’t mine. Yet.” He winked.
It’d been weeks since you’d seen the goofy side of JJ. It was comforting. 
You giggled, bowing your head slightly. “I promise that I am solely focused on clarifying my feelings towards you and only you, blondie.” You returned the sentiment and the salute. “What about our friendship, though? Is it still a friendship?”
“Mmm….” He thought aloud, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Actually, you’re the smart one. What’s like a fancy, silly term for developing a relationship? Like getting to know each other but not dating, like the in between stage?”
“...We can say we’re in a courtship?” You suggest half-jokingly, shrugging. “But… does this also mean we have to stop kissing each other? 'Cause I kind of like that part.”
JJ faked offense, throwing a palm against his chest and gasping. “Kissing?” He asked, wide eyed and shocked. “We are pogues. And number one rule of pogues, is no pogue-on-pogue macking…Eugh.” He reprimanded playfully, fake gagging. You slapped his shoulder in response, a smile on your face as one grew on his.
“No pogue-on-pogue macking, huh?” You said, playfully swatting his arms as he did yours. “
“That’s exactly right, little miss lips-a-lot - Ow! Did you just pinch my nipple?” He laugh-shouted, holding his chest as your swatting ceased. “What are you? Six?-”
You took the opportunity with JJ's guard down to grab the nape of his neck and pull his face into yours, giving him one last hard, passionate kiss of the night, slightly biting his lip as you drew your face away from his.
“How’s that for no pogue-on-pogue macking?”
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personasintro · 1 year
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Mutual Help | #42
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.7k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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The first time you've stepped into the apartment, you could notice the lingering smell of take-away in the air. Chinese, you'd guess while taking off your boots. To be honest, it had been your way of not focusing on the person standing in the same room while watching you. The smell of food hasn't been the only thing lingering in the air, you're sure you could smell the awkwardness and tension in it too from the moment you've stepped through the front door.
You've never been here before. You've always hung out at your place, knowing there won't be anyone disturbing you. And there hasn't been the right time for you to come over and meet Haneul's roommates, since one of them has always been here and this place had been barely empty and free of his nosy roommates.
But it's different now. There is a complete silence in here and it feels like it's just the two of you. You and Haneul.
After Jungkook drove you home, you found another message from Haneul suggesting you could meet the next day, saying he can come over or you can come over, not forgetting to add there won't be anyone at his place. You thought about it – weighing the pros and cons of the unavoidable situation and conversation you're about to have. If you were doing this at your place, you'd probably feel more comfortable because you're home. But if anything goes downhill, it's always better to leave than to be the person who has to kick someone out. You'd like to avoid that and that's why you've agreed to come meet Haneul at his place.
It's not very different from what you've imagined it to look like. There are random things laying on the floor, not necessarily a mess. There are three skateboards – two in the entryway and one in the living room, leaned against the wall. A few clothes are just laying here and there as Haneul curses silently at his roommates while he takes the clothes and tosses them into one of the rooms.
"I'm sorry about the mess." he tells you as he finally joins you and sits on the opposite side from you, who's sitting on the couch, while he sits on a chair that's angled towards you.
You finally take the courage to look him in the eyes, feeling a slight pang in your chest at the sight of him. You're not sure what's the cause of it. Whether it's the bags under his eyes and clear sight of him being tired, or his soft features that you've always admired but then you're reminded what happened and what he said that it all fades away. You don't know.
There's a still fresh bruise on his cheek and jaw, looking way worse than Jungkook's knuckles. The bruise being a reminder of what happened too. It looks painful, Jungkook definitely didn't go easy on him with that punch.
The only thing that feels right is for you to clear your throat and sit straight, features clear out of any emotions. "I didn't come here to see if you and your roommates clean this place," You almost don't recognize your voice – how cold and stern you sound. "I came here to talk about us."
Haneul is surprised, you can see it from the way his eyes slightly widen as he slowly nods. "Of course." he murmurs, awkwardly shifting on his spot.
He just sits there, not sure what to say and you just wish he'd take the lead, but you both have a lot to say. Taking matters into your own hands, you clear your throat again as you focus your eyes on the game controller for a minute.
"Okay, I'll start," you say, not wanting to beat around the bush. "I'm sorry it ended this way, I wasn't planning on that to happen. But you need to know that one of the things I planned, was telling you about me and Jungkook,"
You see the way he tenses at the mention of Jungkook, the topic clearly still sensitive.
"As much as I've tried to understand your point of view, and I think I understood some of it... I think you need to try and understand me too. We've been dating for a month. What happened between me and Jungkook is such an intimate and personal topic, I don't go around and tell everyone my private business. I know you're my boyfriend, or was I don't even know--"
"I am, I didn't break up with you." he cuts you off with a slight frown, not really liking how you suspect him of not being your boyfriend.
"Listen to me," you scold him through clenched teeth and he shuts his mouth immediately. "I know you as my boyfriend deserve to know about this. I wanted to tell you once I was hundred percent sure about us. Don't be mad at me, but dating someone for one month isn't a long time. I didn't feel comfortable telling you about it and I feel even more uncomfortable to know I wasn't the one telling you and that you didn't hear it from me. I've a right to feel uncomfortable talking about such an intimate and private thing, you've to realize this happened before I even met you. I didn't cheat on you, I didn't lie to you and I was planning on telling you. Some part of me knew once you'd know about me and Jungkook, you would see him and us in a different light and I was right,"
You take a deep breath, looking around for a few seconds before you continue.
"I wanted you to see me and Jungkook as friends, I knew the truth could and would eventually mess up your perspective. I wanted you to understand our friendship which I knew from the start wouldn't be easy. Me and Jungkook have always been close, whether you like it or not. Way before we had our deal. But it hasn't affected us the way you probably think it has. I can't blame you for that, at least not that much. There are a lot of people who just don't get us just because we're a woman and a man. They didn't get us way before our deal happened and they don't get us after,"
You realize there's a certain sexual tension between you and Jungkook. Your dreams and own mind is reminding you that often, but it doesn't happen to the point you'd even consider something more. The two of you have your own lives, even though you're involved in each other's life very much.
"I understand it must be uncomfortable for you to know about us. To suddenly question our every interaction and see something more behind it, but it's not like that. I know you've been questioning our friendship and some part of me understands that too. But what I told you about our friendship with Jungkook is a complete truth, I warned you we're close and I asked you to trust me. You told me you trust me."
"I trusted you," he speaks up, frowning a little. "I trusted you and then I found out you slept with him."
"Slept with him before I even knew you and we were both single. With whom I slept with before our relationship is technically none of your business." you snap, taking a deep breath to calm down yourself.
"But he's not just anyone. He's your best friend, someone you hang out with almost every day, you're in touch with him every day."
"I get that, I know it's weird but this is where the trust comes. You sound jealous."
He scoffs at that, looking away which just proves your assumptions. He is jealous.
"So what?" He finally admits it. "What's so wrong with being jealous after finding out my girlfriend used to sleep with her best friend?"
You scoff at that, shaking your head. "Because I told you to trust me and that there's no reason to be jealous. If me and Jungkook wanted to date, we'd do that a long time ago."
He stares at you, a frown slowly fading away as he lets his thoughts take over for a moment before his features soften.
You're not sure how to feel about this. About him. You've barely started and you feel even more conflicted with each second. One second you look at him and are just reminded of all the good times you shared with him, even though there haven't been that many but you remember that feeling of excitement – how excited you were to spend more time with him, to let your relationship grow. And you just want to go up to him and cuddle him, be close to him again.
But the other second you're reminded of the mess that's been created, how much he hurt you. As much as you think you're not innocent in this, you're definitely not the bad guy here either.
"Alright, I was insecure too," he admits, letting out a shaky breath. "After finding out about you two, I was just reminded of how good you get along. And Jungkook is... well, he's him and I can't possibly compete with that."
"You don't have to compete with anyone, Haneul," you remind him, also understanding that this is where his insecurity is coming from. "Jungkook is amazing but I chose to date you for a reason. Jungkook is completely in love with his girlfriend."
"Yeah... but... I felt like an asshole there. I was so embarrassed in front of everyone."
"Not everyone knew, I'm not sure how many people know about it but I guess everyone probably knows by now. Thanks to the scene you caused," You don't mean to sound so accusatory but you can't help it, the bitter feelings are coming back.
His scowl is prominent and you know he doesn't like you accusing him of it being his fault.
"I wish you'd handle things more maturely. We should've talked about it, sit down like adults and discuss it and even though I understand you needed a space, you didn't have to leave so suddenly and leave me there practically without anything, not knowing what will happen with us."
"I told you I'm not breaking up with you." he remarks.
"Yeah, after I asked you because you were too immature to talk to me like an adult," you bark, "But I've been understanding about that too,"
Now it's your turn to glare at him, making sure he sees the way your features turn cold and angry.
"What I don't understand is, how dare you to slut-shame me? You did it in front of everyone but even if you didn't, how dare you do that?"
Haneul gulps at your suddenly loud and angry tone, opening his mouth before he closes it again.
"How dare you bring Jimin and Taehyung into this? How dare you assume I slept with them?"
"Y/N..."
"You hurt me, you made me so embarrassed and mad for saying that," You hate how shaky your voice is starting to sound, but you need to say this. If you don't, you know you'd just regret it later. "I thought I knew you but you completely shocked me. That wasn't like you at all. Or maybe I never knew the real you. One month is a short time to get to know someone perfectly, isn't it?" Chuckling bitterly, you shake your head at yourself for having so much trust in him.
"No, Y/N... please, it's me. I'm sorry, I was just mad and hurt too. I didn't mean it."
"You don't slut-shame someone just because you're mad and hurt!" you exclaim, voice cracking as you feel your eyes getting watery. Oh, get it together Y/N. "That was the last drop."
"W-what does this mean? You don't want to be with me?" It's almost funny how scared he suddenly seems to be at that thought. When you were the one crying and begging him to stay to talk it out with you, he left like a coward. But you still had excuses for him. He's just mad, hurt and heartbroken by the news. And then he said what he said.
Up until now, you've been a little conflicted about how your relationship will end up. That's why you wanted to meet him and see for yourself how you feel about him, about the two of you. But the more you talk and the more you've him in front of you makes your decision more clear. Nothing is final yet though.
"Tell me Haneul," you start, ignoring his question. "If I told you and you knew it from me... would you react differently? Be honest."
You're not sure if he will be honest with you. He could easily lie to you and tell you that yes, he'd act differently. You see him looking at you with those brown eyes, his lips settling downwards as he slowly shakes his head.
"I don't think so, no," At least he is honest which makes you nod appreciatively. "I'd still be insecure and jealous. Mad and hurt..." he trails off. "Listen Y/N, I'm so sorry for reacting the way I did. I'm sorry for saying... slut-shaming you." He winces at the mention of that.
"Sorry doesn't cut it for me." you snap at him, giving him another glare as he sighs, scratching his cheek but wincing immediately when he realized he scratched the bruised one.
"It's a start, I've to apologize. I know it doesn't change what I said. Like you said, I should've been more mature, I should've talked to you about it but at that moment it felt like something impossible. And with my grandma... I just felt like I needed to leave,"
You're not sure if he purposely brought his poor and sick grandmother into this, but you're not about to find out. There are more important things to be dealt with.
"I got a punch I deserved."
"You definitely deserved that," you snap, "If I wasn't so shocked, I'd slap you instead."
"You can slap me now." he proposes innocently, causing you to roll your eyes as you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.
"I probably should but you already look like you're in a lot of pain, deserved pain." you comment sassily, scoffing a little as you cross your arms over your chest and glance at him.
"I can show you how much I'm sorry, if you gave me another chance." he almost whispers, sounding too insecure and almost scared to propose that. A little part of you maybe feels bad for him, you are not going easy with that glare on him. You know you probably look crazy and intimidating.
"I'm not sure if I can..." you murmur, glancing down at your lap as you start fiddling with your fingers but not before you notice the way a real fear crosses his face. He realizes that he's losing you.
"Isn't a relationship about compromises?"
You frown, "What are you talking about?"
"We should be more understanding to each other, I should trust you more, I'm sorry I didn't. I thought I did but... you know what I'm insecure about and I'm pretty sure we could change that too. We both need to make some compromises and sacrifices."
Sacrifices? And then it hits you...
"Jungkook," you whisper, Haneul slowly nodding. "What does he have to do with this?" you frown, seeing Haneul sigh.
"Do you think any guy will be completely understanding towards your relationship with him?" He raises his brow, surprising you by his audacity as you're ready to lash out at him but before you can do that, he's already continuing. "No man will ever understand that you're so close to another man, closer in ways you're not with your own boyfriend, whether that's me or someone else."
That definitely hits a sensitive spot and even though he doesn't sound completely bitter, keeping his voice nonchalant and honest, it still irks you and makes you glare at him even more, practically making you fuming.
"You're asking me to choose between you and Jungkook?" you ask lowly, giving him another chance to think about his answer before he says it as you glare the hell out of him.
However, he doesn't look too bothered by your evident anger.
"I'm talking about a certain boundary between you and him."
He can't be serious.
"You're asking me to change my friendship with him?" you exclaim, staring in disbelief at him and you grip the edges of the beige couch tightly. "Not happening." you snap.
"See? You're not even willing to work this out," he exclaims, "I'm just asking you to be respectful towards me and keep a boundary between you and him. You're too close to him."
"You're crazy," you breathe out, standing up which surprises him because he does the same. "You're so insecure and jealous that you don't even see what I've been talking about. I'm not changing anything about me because this is irrelevant to our problem. You're insecure, it's your problem."
"That's not fair, Y/N and you know it."
"You know what? Maybe if things were different, I'd be able to think about it. But I know why you're saying all of this and you'd constantly have a problem with something, with anything that has to do with Jungkook. I'm not sacrificing my friendship with Jungkook for an unhealthy relationship, for someone who slut-shamed me and disrespected me like that. Maybe I made a mistake, even though I know I had a right not wanting to tell you so soon, but I definitely don't deserve someone treating me like that," you bark at him, your features twisting to a hurt and disgust.
"I deserve better. When I came here I didn't know what to expect, I spent two days trying to figure out how to solve this and thought about possible outcomes. But now that I'm here, now that I've talked to you... I just know I don't want to be with you, Haneul."
His mouth opens, eyes watering immediately as he shakes his head trying to get closer to you but you outstretch your arms to stop him. "Please, don't do this."
"Jungkook asked me if I love you. I told him I'd be able to, before any of this happened. It's too soon to talk about love anyway. But now I know, now I'm sure breaking up with you will be the best decision for both of us. It's not easy, trust me, it pains me too."
"Then don't leave me." he begs, trying to reason with those brown puppy eyes as you shake your head, surprised that you're already not crying.
"Don't put this on me Haneul," you laugh bitterly, "You were the one who left me."
"I-I was just-- I told you I needed some space."
"You were the one who made this decision for me, Haneul. From the moment you disrespected me by slut-shaming me, bringing my friends into this. I was just too naive to think that maybe there's a way to fix this. I wanted to see you to be sure, but deep down I knew."
"Y/N, come on. I love you!" he says hurriedly as if those three words would change anything and it does make you laugh a little.
"You don't love me," you disagree, "I'm just your first serious relationship. I'm your first in a lot of things and I know you'll find someone else. Whoever that is, treat them better. You're not a bad guy, Haneul."
"Then be with me!" he exclaims and you see the panic in his eyes. He's not making it very easy but you're already determined about your decision. It doesn't feel the most comfortable but you know it's the right one.
"We wouldn't work," you shake your head, giving him a pained smile as you brush past him. "Bye, Haneul."
He stands there, luckily does nothing to stop you because you're not sure how many more minutes you'd manage to be here. You're quick with putting on your boots and jacket, not waiting for him to properly say goodbye to you, you're not sure if he even wants to. So you open the door and get past them, closing them with a thud that must've alarmed him you already left. You feel slightly empty on your way downstairs to your car, not fully processing what has just happened and you don't plan on trying to do that.
You've to focus on the road and driving in your scrappy car. If something happened to you, Jungkook would be the first one to kill you.
It still hasn't totally come upon you. Not even after being almost for an hour home. Somewhere in the back of your mind, Haneul still lingers there and so does your conversation with him. You're trying to busy yourself by tidying your place, cursing at yourself for taking care of your clothes and unpacking all of your stuff once Jungkook drove you home. You had to distract yourself then too but now you definitely need it more.
Jungkook must be on his way to Seoul or is in Seoul by now. He texted you in the morning, checking on you very subtly which proved to be not as subtle because you could see right through him. He looked unsure once he parked in front of your apartment complex and helped you with your stuff upstairs.
"You sure you don't want anything to drink or eat?" you ask him once you see him getting out of your bathroom, after he went to use it. 
"Ah, no thanks," he answers, giving you an appreciative bunny smile as he scratches the back of his neck. 
He sees you sitting on your couch, suitcase laying in front of you fully opened as you start putting out your dirty and used clothes. You notice him standing there, remembering that he's probably waiting to say goodbye so he can drive back to the cabin.
"You sure you will be fine?"
As most of the time, he beats you before you can say or do something. Sighing, your shoulders slouch a little.
"Kook, I wanted to come here for a reason," you tell him, raising your brow at him but he just stands there standing at you expectantly. You know what he wants. "Yes, I'll be fine."
It's his turn to sigh, slowly making his way towards you as he sits next to you. You know as soon as he's out of that door, you'll be left alone with your thoughts and feelings. You could use some company but you're not stupid enough to say that to him, knowing he's willing to stay. It wouldn't be fair to him. He has a girlfriend he has to get back to. He has his stuff there too and it wouldn't make too much sense for him to stay here. Plus, you'd feel guilty for keeping him here.
There's no way Jungkook hears your thoughts but well, he's Jungkook and he's worried about you. That much can be told by the way he keeps watching you unsurely and hasn't left yet. 
"I can stay here for a bit," he proposes, ignoring the way your head snaps towards him and a little scowl makes its way on your face. "To keep you company."
"That's a stupid decision and you know it," you tell him, "Just go back, Kook. I'll be fine..."
The truth is, Jungkook would really like to stay over, to slouch lazily over your couch like many times before, and eat some junk food with you while watching some random movie. He's tired, not something he'd admit out loud knowing you'd scold the hell out of him. But he also knows he has to get back. He should get back but if you let him know you need him here, he'd work something out. So far, you look very determined on him leaving and he knows it's only for his own sake. Selfless as always, he thinks as he stares at you with a soft look.
"It's already dark outside and you still have a four hour long drive," You try to reason with him, seeing him nod but not seeing him moving from his spot. "Jeon, otherwise I'll kick you out."
"That's mean," he comments, chuckling when you do the same but give him that stern look. "Alright, but I'm one call away if you need someone to talk to."
"I know, you told me like a hundred times, so did Jimin and Tae."
"Pff, Jimin and Tae," he scoffs, playfully rolling his eyes. You know he's doing that to distract you, to make you laugh. "They're nothing compared to me." he jokes, standing up as you roll your eyes at him.
"If they heard you, they'd kick your ass." you point out, seeing him puff out his chest cockily.
"We all know I'd kick both of their asses easily."
"Alright, you macho man, your turn to leave," you laugh, ignoring the dramatic gasps he lets out. Reaching for your wallet, you pull out a cash and hand it to Jungkook who stares at your hand with a frown once he realizes you're handing him something. "For the gas."
He keeps frowning, touching your hand as you think he's taking it from you, already thinking this was easy but not until you realize he's done it to push your hand away. 
"Keep it," he tells you, "And my car is electric, it doesn't need gas."
You roll your eyes. You obviously knew that, how could you when he spent hours talking about it? It's his second love, right after Kiko of course. 
"You know what I mean," you mutter, "Just take it. You drove four hours here to drive me home and you're driving another four to get back. This is the least I can do for you."
Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head and pushing your hand away again when you try to hand him the money. "I said keep it,"
You ignore his deep and stern voice, insisting on him taking it as you keep shoving your hand and the money to his face. He grabs your wrist, scowling at you. His touch is not too tight, he's making sure he's not actually hurting you.
"Consider this as your Christmas present."
You let your hand fall as you groan at him. "That's stupid. You already gave me Christmas presents."
"So? Can't I spoil my best friend?" He cocks his brow at you, pursing his lips as you chuckle at him. 
"No, you can't--hey!" you exclaim when you're enveloped in a tight hug, Jungkook's arms tightly around your frame before he lets you go.
You barely recover from the sudden and surprise hug, seeing him walking away from you with his face turned to you as he waves at you. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Jeon!" you yell at him, groaning when you hear him putting on his boots and grabbing his jacket. "Drive safely!"
"Alright, mom!" You hear him yell from your entryway, making you snort.
"Idiot!" you yell at him, the laugh can be heard in your voice as you hear Jungkook snicker. 
"Brat!" he calls back.
The next thing you hear is your front door being closed, the laughter dying down as you realize you're by yourself just like you wanted. You're just not sure if that's really what you needed, especially when someone reminds you of themselves in a form of text. 
The memory from yesterday makes you smile a little, Lucifer episode running on your television while your thoughts are in another world. You focus on it for a moment, being interrupted by your phone chiming with a message notification which makes you glance at your phone that's tossed next to you. You flip it over to check the screen, not surprised when you see a message by Jungkook.
Kook: just came back 
Kook: are you at home?
Opening the message, you start typing.
"yeah"
You're not sure what else to type, so you just go along with this message as you send it. His message came right away and you knew he must've been waiting for your reply. You know he's checking on you again. He knew you've already talked to Haneul by now, you told him you're about to meet him around lunch time. Which reminds you that you've barely eaten since you came back home.
Kook: are you okay?
It's the same repetitive question he's been asking you for days now. It should get annoying by now but you can't bring yourself to feel annoyed, not when you appreciate him worrying this much about you. Jimin and Taehyung texted you too earlier, always reminding you that they're here for you.
Kook: how did it go?
You know he's careful but curious at the same time and honestly, you've no reason to lie. You bite on your lower lip, suddenly feeling sad when you replay today's events and read Jungkook's message. It's not his fault though, it's your emotions that are playing with you.
"I broke up with him" Is all you text, keeping it casual while ignoring the sudden pang in your chest.
What you can't ignore is the rush of emotions when Jungkook's name starts flashing on your screen, notifying you of your incoming call. He probably knows you're not that okay and decides to check it himself. With messages, you can easily type whatever you want but one word from you and he'll know how you truly feel.
You pick it up, sucking in breath as your teeth cage in your bottom lip. At this rate, it'll bleed soon.
"Y/N," Jungkook murmurs, voice worried and pitiful. "Come on talk to me." he tells you softly and that's the final straw.
You're not sure what comes over you but you start sobbing immediately. You've been relatively fine by now, probably because you caged in most of your emotions. But something about hearing Jungkook makes you sob, letting him hear you as you give him an answer at the same time.
"Aw, baby," he whines and you can clearly hear a pout in his voice.
You even cry at the pet name, knowing he doesn't mean it in the way he used to call you, but it's still enough to make you cry as you sniffle into the phone.
"I'm coming over, okay? Wait up for me." he tells you, not declining the call just yet, wanting to hear your answer.
You feel bad for him coming over when he barely made it home. But you can't be more empathic than that because all you can do is nod as you open your mouth.
"Okay."
And that's all that Jungkook needs to hang up, leaving you to your silent sobs that calm down slowly as you cuddle to your blanket. The TV show running on your television is just a white noise that you could care less about, your watery eyes blurring your vision anyway.
By the time you hear a set of soft yet rushed knocks, you've calmed down a little and your heart jumps at the sound. Jungkook is here, you think as you get out of your blanket that's been wrapped around your body as you stand up and make your way to the front door. You barely manage to open the door, met with Jungkook's doe eyes full of sadness before you're enveloped in a hug.
It's almost funny how that simple act makes you cry even more, face hidden in Jungkook's chest as he slowly guides you deeper into the room while he closes the front door with his foot. You feel his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms hugging you tightly.
"Shhh, it's okay," he assures you, hearing you sniffle. You feel pathetic but oddly calm and at peace because you know you're not alone. Jungkook has a weird sense of comforting others, or maybe it's just you and the fact he's so close to you, being a person who you need most at times like these.
He slightly pulls away after a moment, his hands grasping your face as he gives you an empathic smile. "Let me just take off my shoes and jacket."
Nodding, you sniffle and wipe your cheeks from your tears while Jungkook quickly takes off his black boots and jacket. He neatly sets it to its place before he's grabbing you by your hand and pulling you into the living room, where he's met with a sight of a TV show running and a blanket that's messily crinkled on your couch. He leads you there, urging you to sit up as you're already leaning against him.
He hugs you, pulling you even closer as you start sobbing again while he rubs your back while the other hand caresses the back of your hair.
"Did he say something? Did he hurt you?" Jungkook asks after a moment of comforting you, voice growing alarmed but yet still cautious.
You shake your head, pulling away so you can look at him. His eyes find you immediately, hand brushing away a strand of hair falling onto your face.
"I just realized I don't want to be with him," you admit, your voice coming out weak and sad which makes Jungkook's eyes soften at the sound of it. "Is it stupid I'm crying over him? I mean... I've been dating him for a month only."
"Hey, that doesn't mean you can't be sad about your break-up. You still liked him." Jungkook points out lightly, wiping more tears off your cheeks.
"Yeah, I know," you whisper, "I'm glad we talked, I said things I wanted to say and I got to hear him out which made my decision easier."
"So it went all good?" he asks, reaching for the tissue pack as he pulls one out and hands it to you.
"Thanks," you mumble, embarrassingly emptying your runny nose from all that crying. You haven't been bawling your eyes that much but you've still cried more than you expected to. "I'm not sure good is the right word but it didn't go wrong either. It wasn't very comfortable but that's not surprising considering we were about to discuss all that has happened between us... I don't know. I wasn't as emotional, not until you called. I just bursted into tears after that."
You let out a chuckle that Jungkook quickly follows, chuckling with you as you toss your used tissue onto your coffee table.
"It's okay to cry it out, it doesn't matter how many months you were dating him. You've a right to be sad," he tells you, soothing your saddened heart which you appreciate. "Did you break-up because of us? Because of our deal?"
Now he sounds almost insecure, maybe even worried and guilty when he brings up that topic. You get it, if that was the case it'd mean Jungkook is somehow involved in it too and it's just consequences of your deal. But you don't see it that way. What you and Jungkook did is solely your decision, a decision you both agreed on and you don't regret it. Yes, maybe it did make Haneul's reaction worse but it's not Jungkook's fault.
"No," you say, "No, Kook, it's not because of our deal. It might've started with that but he was already suspicious of our friendship. He told me he was jealous and insecure. There were many reasons why I've decided to end it with him. The main reason is when he disrespected me, slut-shamed me,"
Jungkook mimics your face of anger as his brows automatically furrow into a deep scowl once you mention that.
"He'd react the same way, whether he knew about us from me or someone else. And then he basically made me choose between you and him. He wanted me to keep my distance from you."
"He did what?"
Okay, now he's mad.
"Yeah," you tell unsurely, looking at Jungkook who seems to have a puzzled look mixed with anger. "I called him crazy and basically told him to fuck off." you grin, Jungkook snorting at you.
"That's my girl," He brings you closer to him, cuddling you to himself as he squeezes you tightly causing you to groan. "My best friend kind of girl." he justifies when you poke him in his stomach and pull away.
"Yeah, yeah." you murmur as you wave your hand.
"Anyway, what are we watching?" Jungkook asks, eyes glancing at the television as you stare at him with a surprise.
Does he want to stay over? You don't mind it, you could use a company and not so surprisingly, Jungkook lifted up your mood. Yes, you were crying just a few minutes ago but him being here has helped you so much. At the same time, you don't want to hold him here just because you're going through a break-up. Today is the day he came home, he probably wasn't even able to unpack all of his stuff. It sounded as if he came straight here once he called you.
Jungkook notices your surprise and the underlying guilt on your face as you stare at him with a slightly opened mouth.
"What? Already wanting to get rid of me?"
You know he's just teasing you, silently telling you that he's fine with staying over and not leaving you alone. You don't want to spend the time pursuing him, that this is not something he has to do for your sake, his presence does feel good and you don't want him to leave. So, you're going to be a little selfish about this and not say anything about that.
"You know it's not like that..."
"Great, then do we watch this or something else?"
He dismisses you quickly, reaching for the TV controller as he gives you a grin before he makes himself comfortable next to you. Chuckling, you join him, silently pleading Jungkook to rub your back. He does roll his eyes at your request and mumbles something under his breath, but his hand still reaches for your back while you pleasantly hum.
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Even though the actual holidays haven't even lasted that long, you find it slightly weird to come back to your usual life and routine that consists of adult and unnecessary things. Maybe it's because so many things have changed, things that were so different at the beginning of the holidays and now that it's ended, you're coming back to your usual life. But this time, things have changed.
Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin made it their mission to keep you occupied when they had the time, making sure you won't shed any more tears for Haneul and things that have happened between you two. Luckily, there were no tears and if it weren't for the period you got the day after you cried on Jungkook's shoulder, you're not even sure if you'd cry for Haneul at all.
Of course, it hurts you what happened even now when you think about it, and you know it won't go away with a snap of fingers. But you genuinely think it's more from disappointment and your expectation of your relationship with him. Therefore, there are no tears but still a slightly pained feeling in your chest when you think about him.
He hasn't contacted you ever since you walked out of his apartment, which you consider as a better way for you to cope with everything. You're not going to lie, you're actually glad he hasn't tried to fix things. Both of you know it's pointless and this way, you're saved from any other uncomfortable confrontation.
Deep in your thoughts and back to having your morning coffee in a break room before the real work starts, knowing you need that extra caffeine to get through the day, you almost spill it when someone bumps into you from your side.
"Oh, sorry," An automatic apology spills out of your mouth, fully realizing you've been blocking the coffee machine for a few minutes now while being in your own world.
As you look up before you make sure none of the coffee is spilled on your white blouse, you're immediately met with sharp eyes that glare at you.
"Oh, it's you." you let out, your tone dropping as he reaches for a clean cup and starts working on the machine until coffee starts slowly pouring into his cup. Watching him, you take in his appearance and weirdly enough, the scene before you is familiar and it's like nothing has changed.
Maybe it's one of his typical attire for work, black slacks and a casual shirt, but looking at him it doesn't feel like this is the first day after winter holidays.
He turns to you while his cup is still getting filled, lips curved in a tiny smirk.
"Missed me?"
"Not at all." you scoff, scrunching your nose right away as he stares at you amusingly.
You don't think you've ever met someone as annoying as Yoongi is. He really has a special talent for making you annoyed in a second, he doesn't even have to open his mouth. Just one look at his constant and typical smirk, smirk that basically laughs in your face, and you're ready to turn into Hulk. And you're very much aware that's what amuses him and makes him so cocky, knowing he annoys you this much and gets this kind of reaction from you, you just can't help it.
"Bitchy like always." he hums, not surprised by your earlier scoff and reaction.
"Asshole like always." Just like he has expected, you react in a heartbeat, not missing a chance to attack back.
The coffee machine turns off, letting him know his coffee is ready and he takes it, taking a cautious and tiny sip as he pleasantly hums before he stands next to you, leaning against the counter.
"How were the holidays?"
He doesn't even look at you as he asks it, looking ahead of him and at a few of co-workers which makes him miss the way your brows frown in a confusion. That's a huge change from calling you bitchy to asking you about your holidays, you think as you stare at him.
"Good, yours?" you ask shortly, not really minding this casual talk even though you're not sure if he really cares about your answer anyway. Usually everything he says has some ulterior motive.
"Good," Yoongi shrugs, taking a sip from his coffee again. "I spent it at home, safely away from everyone."
Your brows shoot up and the new information before a little snort leaves your mouth. "You spent it alone?"
He glances at you, sharp eyes glancing at you in confusion. "What's the look for? What's wrong with spending it alone?" he asks simply, although you catch onto his slightly defensive tone which makes you shrug.
"Nothing, it just sounds... lonely." you tell him, searching Yoongi's face for any kind of reaction but all he does is just grin amusingly.
"Chill out, I still had to spend Christmas with my parents," Somehow, he doesn't sound so pleased by that and you hold back your laugh when you see his unimpressed face at the mention of Christmas.
Yoongi isn't exactly the sharing type, that much you can tell even if you don't know that much about him. He doesn't talk about his personal life that much, even though you probably know the most about him out of everyone in this company working with you and him. He doesn't interact with others unless it's not something important and work related, or if it's not him having a great opportunity to annoy someone. And unfortunately, that someone is usually you.
Although, you'd lie if you didn't say you witnessed him having sarcastic comments aimed at someone that isn't you. It's usually what everyone thinks but it's kind of impolite to say out loud – well, not for Yoongi. You're still surprised why he hasn't been fired yet.
"How did you spend the holidays then?"
He doesn't sound interested but once it takes you a moment to answer, he raises his brow at you expectantly before you sigh and open your mouth. So, you tell him you spent Christmas back at home with your parents, purposely emphasizing the sweet tone when you talk about them which makes him roll his eyes. You fight the urge to burst out laughing at the face he makes. He knows you've done it purposely and you're glad you're annoying him just as he annoys you. You don't tell him any details, simply saying you spent New Year's Eve at a friend's cabin with your friends.
Thinking you've done a great job at being casual while talking about the trip that has changed so many things for you, you're easily mistaken because Yoongi glances at you and has this weird look on his face. He has caught onto something, you realize as you mentally curse.
"You don't look too pleased though." he comments, suspiciously narrowing his eyes at you.
"No, it was great." You try to assure him, even giving him a smile which you realize you're screwed the moment you see his raised brow.
"Uhm, and you're lying," he waves his hand carelessly, "So, spill it out. What happened?"
You and Yoongi are far from being friends, he's nothing like Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung. So you wonder... are you really like an open book? To be fair, you haven't been totally hiding your emotions even though your mouth and words have said something else. Yoongi is great at observing and he barely misses anything, so it shouldn't surprise you that he called you out on you, lying.
"Why should I tell you?" You don't beat around the bush, not seeing the point of trying to deny it.
"Hm, true but this day is already too boring, so be good and entertain me." he tells you casually, making your mouth open in disbelief as you scoff at him.
"I'm not here for your entertainment, Min." you remind him, sounding offended that he's just using you for his own entertainment. Obviously, you know he doesn't really care but at the same time, funnily enough, there have been times when the two of you had a civil conversation without dissing or annoying one another.
Still, you get slightly frustrated by him wanting you to entertain him.
"You're so boring, fine don't talk to me." he mutters, taking a sip from his coffee before he's about to turn around but you don't leave it just there. As usual.
"And you're annoying, but what's new?" you bite back, not hiding the rising anger in your voice. "Plus, I don't need you to laugh at me."
"Why would I laugh at you?" he asks, sounding confused as he stops in his tracks.
Raising your brow at him, you purse your lips. Is he seriously asking that? Him that takes every opportunity to laugh at you?
"Because you're evil, spiteful, annoying?"
He stares at you for a moment before he cracks a grin that turns into an overly sweet smile that can be recognized as fake from miles away. "That's very generous of you, thank you!"
He just proved your point. You roll your eyes at him. "See? You're annoying."
He shrugs, not even denying it but then he stares at you for a moment and you take that moment to take a sip from your own, almost, cold coffee.
"I know you think I'm a dick," You hum which makes it be his turn to roll his eyes at you before he continues, "But I wouldn't laugh about something that makes you look this terrible."
"Excuse me? Terrible? I've spent half an hour doing this make-up!" you exclaim, glaring at him and his straight-forwardness yet again. Do you really look terrible?
You don't feel exactly happy, more empty and maybe just a bit overwhelmed from what happened, but you've actually worked on yourself and your mindset, thanks to your friends who have been there for you. After all, you don't regret your decision to put your relationship with Haneul to an end.
"I didn't mean it like that." he mutters simply, not saying anything else and you know you probably won't get any details from him.
It's not a big deal, Y/N... you think as you let out a sigh. "Fine, me and my boyfriend, well ex now, broke up. And my New Year's trip was ruined, and oh, Jungkook's girlfriend was involved in that too."
Spilling the news and details to Yoongi doesn't feel burdening, you're slightly shocked how easy it came out.
"You had a boyfriend?" he asks confusingly, remembering how you were whining about the lack of sex in your life just a month ago or whenever you gave him a handjob in his brother's office. He obviously doesn't keep up with your life, but the news of you having a boyfriend is slightly surprising.
"Yeah, for like a month." you scoff at yourself and your failed relationship.
When Yoongi actually snorts at your answer, you make sure you give him a glare for laughing about the short period of your relationship.
"Damn, poor boy gave up?"
"No," you spit, "He actually slut-shamed me in front of everyone before the actual New Year's Eve and then left without talking to me."
If Yoongi seemed surprised to you before, he definitely is shocked now and ignores the bitter tone and glare you aim at him for automatically assuming the other person has to be the poor little guy. You're actually sick of him belittling you and thinking everyone around you poor them.
He clears his throat rather awkwardly, setting his cup of coffee behind him on a counter before he scratches the back of his head. "He did what? Why would he do that?"
Sighing, you put your cup next to his, not even sure if you're in a need for coffee anymore. "He found out about me and Jungkook, from Jungkook's girlfriend."
"Oh," He lets out, which makes you nod. There's a beat of silence for a moment and you're not completely aware of the way your features drop in sadness as you stare at your feet, however Yoongi is there to notice and witness it all. "That doesn't give him the right to do that though."
You look at Yoongi, offering him a slight nod, silently agreeing with him. Yoongi isn't great at comforting other people, the hell, he's not even trying to be. It just makes him feel awkward for some reason but it's very rare to see you vulnerable. You always appear as someone who always stands up for themselves, strong and stubborn to him. The last time you had a proper talk, there was alcohol involved which naturally made it easier to talk to you.
But now, there's no alcohol and you're just a few minutes away from having to go to work. He doesn't know any more details of what really went down that day but from the looks of it, it wasn't pleasant and it obviously affects you to some extent. Yoongi isn't the one asking for details, not when he sees you visibly upset and hurt. He often crosses the line but when it comes down to something serious, he rather shuts up.
"Well," he starts, clearing his throat as he awkwardly shifts his eyes from you to the window behind you. "He's an idiot for doing that..."
It's not like you don't know that, but hearing Yoongi say it and not having a sarcastic remark makes you appreciate it. You let out a slight chuckle which catches his attention and you almost burst out laughing when you give him an appreciative smile and he almost panics, suddenly feeling uncomfortable from the awfully touching moment.
"Thanks?"
"Yeah, whatever," he murmurs, reaching for his cup. "See you later, loser."
And he's already out of the door before you can cuss him out.
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"Alright, I'm heading out guys." Jungkook announces, tucking his phone back to the pocket of his jeans after he checked the time.
He catches everyone's attention, using the rare silence to inform everyone about him leaving. He has spent the last twenty minutes listening to Seokjin's and Hoseok's quarrel about a soccer game that's been playing on the television. They all had to listen to it and once Jungkook checked the time to see that it's time for him to go, he definitely had to use that silence.
"Where are you going?" Hoseok asks, slouched on his couch while Seokjin snorts beside him, reaching for the salted sticks to munch on them.
"To pick up Y/N," he answers for Jungkook. "Do you even listen sometimes?"
And there you go again, the two of them start to bicker all over again until Jimin stops it, shutting them up before he asks Hoseok for some more soda. Jungkook knows Jimin is perfectly capable of getting that alone, knowing exactly where Hoseok stocks his drinks and actually has said to everyone to make themselves feel at home.
He catches onto Jimin's doing, rolling his eyes at the younger but he still stands up, looking equally annoyed at Seokjin. Disappearing into the kitchen, Jungkook looks at Jimin who just shrugs with a grin while Taehyung is trying to hold back his laugh.
Idiots, Jungkook thinks but doesn't hide his own amused grin. It's funny how he's the youngest but his hyungs are often found bickering about the most stupid and random stuff. It actually reminds him of the evening he spent at your place, along with Taehyung and Jimin. That time when the three of them made sure you're not left alone and simply just wanted to spend some time with you, just four days after your break-up with Haneul.
"Excuse me!" The shriek that leaves your mouth makes Jungkook flinch, not expecting you to burst all of a sudden but then, he should've expected it when Taehyung started to question the real pain behind woman period. 
He's not even sure how you got into that topic. Oh yeah, you complained how awful you've been feeling because of it, admitting that you were more emotional that night when Jungkook came to see you. Everyone laughed at that, until Taehyung had to open his big mouth again and started comparing period pain to--
"Have you ever been kicked to the balls? That pain is unbearable!"
You shoot up from your laid position, sitting upright which makes Jungkook flinch again and he holds you back, staring at you with wide eyes while you glare the hell out of Taehyung. He looks absolutely unbothered, slouched on the other end of the couch, plopping more popcorn into his mouth while you look on the verge of going crazy.
"Come on guys..." Jungkook tries, chuckling a little bit to ease the mood but you completely ignore him.
"Oh, go to hell with your balls!"
Jimin snorts, causing Jungkook to look at him in disbelief as he just shrugs while chugging more beer. 
"You know what we women go through while getting our period? It's not just stomach pain, our lower backs hurt too, sometimes we have a urge to vomit and sometimes we do. Oh, our head spins and we feel like we're gonna faint, some women even do! And oh, we get all hot feeling like our insides are burning, we sweat a lot and then in a second we start shivering from cold! There are so many different symptoms too! Can you imagine that?"
You're breathing heavily by the time you're finished, pointing an accusatory finger at Taehyung. 
"Okay, but we men definitely know what I'm talking about. Right? Guys, back me up a little," Taehyung glances between Jungkook and Taehyung as Jungkook opens his mouth, earning a stern glare from you as you cock your brow at him. 
Jimin silently admits that yes, kick to the balls hurt as fuck but other than that, he doesn't say too much. "See?" Taehyung adds cockily. 
"Why do I even bother talking about this to men?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungkook gasps.
"Uh, I didn't even say anything." Jungkook mutters and again, he's completely ignored by you.
"We literally feel period cramps for hours if not longer! You know what? I'll kick your balls repeatedly, so--"
"Alright, alright, time-out." Jungkook interrupts you when you start rising from your spot as you glare at Taehyung who dramatically gasps and covers his crotch with the bowl full of popcorn.
"You're psycho!" Taehyung shrieks at you.
"Hey!" Jungkook frowns, scolding him which makes Taehyung shut his mouth as you stick out your tongue at him behind Jungkook's shoulder.
Today has been your first day working at a club again after holidays and after a few conversations about the trouble your car is giving you (and Jungkook's own persistence), you both agreed on Jungkook picking you up tonight.
He bids goodbye to the guys, making his way to Hoseok's kitchen knowing Kiko is there preparing more snacks for everyone, so he can bid goodbye to her too. She went there a couple of minutes ago, just in time to miss bickering between Hoseok and Jimin, which she unmistakably must've heard anyway.
Jungkook pats the pockets on the back of his jeans to check if his phone and wallet are still there as he hears distant voices that have to belong to Hoseok and Kiko. He can hear Kiko's soft and hushed voice, already confirming his thoughts that she's still in the kitchen making snacks while Hoseok went to grab a soda for Jimin. Just as he's about to walk in, informing them about his presence he hears Hoseok's hushed but stern voice.
"This is not gonna end up good, Kik and you know it."
Jungkook stops in his tracks immediately, just behind the corner so they can't see him as something comes over him and tells him to stop from walking there. He's been friends with Hoseok for years and enough to recognize the rare distress in his voice. He's usually cheerful and even though there are moments when he can be the most serious amongst everyone, there's just something off behind his tone.
"Hobi, please," He hears Kiko murmur in a silent plea. "Don't make this any harder."
"You've made this harder for yourself Kik and you know it," Jungkook can perfectly hear a slight disappointment and sadness in Hoseok's voice. "This is hard for me too. Jungkook is my friend too."
Jungkook feels himself swallow harshly after that, not being able to detect all the emotions behind Hoseok's tone but one thing is sure, he sounds kind of sad and guilty.
"I'm sorry..."
"No, Kik," Hoseok murmurs, shaking his head at her – something Jungkook can't see behind the corner as he remains glued to his spot not being able to move. "I'm your friend, I told you I've got your back. I don't mean to sound as if I'm blaming you... but think about Jungkook. You've to tell him, you should've told him sooner."
"No," Kiko reacts immediately, sounding almost afraid. "No, he doesn't wanna know,"
Hoseok raises his brow, ready to open his mouth to disagree but she panics and grabs his wrists to make him look at her.
"Our relationship is good, Hobi, I can't risk ruining it any further. I'm aware everything is my fault and there is not a day I don't think about it, but I love him. I love him so much and now I finally got him back. Please."
She sounds weak, hurt and sad, settling an uncomfortable feeling in Jungkook's chest. One part of him is desperate to go there and check on her, hearing her voice quivering slightly which indicates she's close to crying. However the other part, the rational part, reminds him of what he's hearing and his feelings have to go away for a second.
"This has gone too far, Jungkook might be okay with it because he loves you... but he deserves to know. It's hard for me too, but I'm not sure how long I can take it." Hoseok sounds determined, even though he keeps his voice kind of gentle. Or maybe it's his whispered tone, not knowing Jungkook is hearing all of this and is standing just behind the corner with uncertain feelings and a huge lump in his throat.
He's not even sure what he should be thinking, it's hard to process anything at the moment and all he can focus on is listening to his friend and girlfriend talking about him. About his and Kiko's relationship while Hoseok is determined to make Kiko tell him everything. Although Jungkook doesn't want to know any details, he's starting questioning everything and wondering if Hoseok is much more involved in this than he thought.
"Hobi!" Kiko exclaims, almost crying out as Hoseok shakes his head disapprovingly yet staring at the distressed woman with a sorrowful look.
"If you don't tell him, I will." And there's a beat of silence following after, Jungkook's heart beating in his ears as he can't seem to react in any way.
Meanwhile Kiko is staring wide-eyed at her best friend, gasping in disbelief as he stares at her with a pitiful look. "You wouldn't do that..." she whispers, voice shaky as he looks away for a second, not bearing to see her teary eyes.
"I'm sorry, Kik. I know I promised you, but this has gone too far. Jungkook is gonna hate both of us, but it's better than him not knowing the whole truth while you're torturing yourself every day. You might think you're happy but deep down, it's always gonna live inside you. And the truth always comes out, the sooner it'll it's better. For everyone."
That's it. Jungkook can't take it and before he can properly think it through, he's already coming out of the shadows and the corner, making himself visible. His presence is known right away, their heads snapping to Jungkook's figure as he stares with empty look at both of them while a loud gasp leaves Kiko's mouth.
Just by looking at his face, seeing nothing but emptiness that slowly turns into anger and hurt, she knows he heard. He heard everything.
Hoseok looks just as surprised to see Jungkook as Kiko does, although he looks much more collected than her. Tears start to stream down her cheeks as she quickly straightens herself and walks around the kitchen island, trying to get to Jungkook. However, she's coming to a halt when Jungkook motions for her to stop with his outstretched arm.
"I can explain," Is what comes out of her mouth, voice breathy and quickened. "W-we were just talking and--"
"I don't wanna hear anything right now." he cuts her off, shaking his head.
"I'll give you guys some space..." Hoseok mutters, sending Jungkook an apologetic look which the younger notices but doesn't react to because his eyes are back on his girlfriend.
"Jung--"
"I said I don't wanna hear anything right now," he mutters sternly, "I gotta go right now but I wanna know everything. No more secrets."
"Jungkook," she gasps again, taking a few steps towards him but she stops when he glares at her and takes a step back.
"No, whatever Hoseok wants you to tell me, you will. Tomorrow."
And with that, he turns around and quickly walks out of the room, still hearing the quiet sob that leaves her mouth as he rushes through the living room, ignoring everyone's curious eyes and the way they all shut up once they notice Jungkook's state.
Hoseok is avoiding Jimin's eyes, grabbing a beer as he takes a large gulp of it but before Jimin can stand up and check on Jungkook, he already hears the front door closing with a loud thud. Once Kiko joins them after a few minutes, bringing the snacks, he notices her red eyes before she mutters a quick excuse of having to get home.
The rest of the night is not fun anymore, the weird tension lingering in the entire Hoseok's apartment even after Kiko and Jungkook left.
608 notes · View notes
sophrosynesworld · 3 months
Text
With all my love, pt 5
Am I crazy? Seriously, am I the kind of person who stalks their ex-boyfriend on Twitter, spots a mutual friend in the background of a drunk selfie, then calls that friend to get the address so I can show up and kill my ex?
I press the elevator button, heading up to the penthouse. As the elevator speeds past the lower floors, my heart pounds in my chest. Mumbles leave my mouth as I hold back my nausea, feeling like I’m going to barf in this plant. What luxury apartment complex has a plant in the elevator?
Why didn’t I come up with a plan sooner? The adrenaline that fueled my initial anger is already beginning to dwindle. I let out a soft sigh, closing my eyes for a moment to concentrate. I can’t let him do this to me anymore. I'm exhausted by the mind games, the constant psychological warfare.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal a lavish hallway. I take a deep breath, feeling a flutter of nerves. I haven't been to Todoroki’s apartment before, which makes this whole situation even more nerve-racking. The empty hallway is intimidating, each step I take echoing softly. Despite the knots in my stomach, I know I can't turn back now. This is my only chance to reclaim my sense of self, to finally break free from the cycle of manipulation and pain.
I open the front door and slip off my outside shoes, replacing them with an appropriate indoor pair from my bag. The living room is full with a combination of heroes and groupies, their faces illuminated by the shifting colors of several strobe lights. The air is thick with the mingled scents of perfume, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of spilled beer.
The music vibrates the floor below me, suddenly feeling bad for his downstairs neighbors. A steady beat reverberates through my chest as I watch the crowd for a moment, trying to spot a familiar face. Bodies grind in sync on the dance floor, a group is gathered near the kitchen, their conversations unheard thanks to the music. On the far side of the room, an old classmate is standing next to the makeshift bar, mixing drinks with practiced ease.
“Can you make me a drink Sero?” my voice surprises him clearly as he jumps and knocks a few plastic cups over, causing them to spill out over the floor. The much taller man turns around with a drunken smile spreading across his face, liquor lingers on his breath as he picks me up and spins me around in a circle.
“I didn’t know they let you outside anymore” Sero laughed as he placed me back down onto the floor. His tape quickly extending out towards several bottles, helping him create some drink concoction. An aquamarine beverage is extended out to me as I hear a high pitched squeal in my ear.
Mina latched onto me before I can process what’s happening. Her combined “oh my gods” and complaints about my outfit are tossed in between each other like an overstuffed compliment sandwich.
“I’m excited to see you too Mimi.” I offer her a small hug back as I question Sero.
“What is this?”
“Plus Ultra Punch.”
“Of course it is.” my eyes roll as I down my drink. Mina squeezing my shoulders excitedly while Sero quickly made another.
“Be careful, these are strong.” He warns before turning around to help another nonpaying client.
I sip my drink, the alcohol burning a fiery path down my throat. The potent mix of liquor and fruitiness lingers on my tongue. As I savor the sensation, I glance over at Mina, who’s excitedly tapping away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen's glow.
"Do you know where Bakugou is?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
She looks up, concern flashing in her eyes. "Do you think that’s a good idea?" she counters, her hand gripping my jacket. Her gaze darts nervously around the room, scanning the crowd.
"Who is he with?" My voice wavers slightly, a defeated breath escaping my lungs. I brace myself for the answer. Mina sighs, rolling her eyes at my stupidity before pointing towards the balcony.
"She's just some groupie. They just met tonight. I—" Her voice fades into music as I weave my way through the dance floor. Liquid courage propels me forward until I reach the balcony door, my hand poised to turn the knob.
Before I can open it, a strong hand catches mine. I turn to see Kirishima, his expression serious as he gently but firmly pulls me closer to his chest. His eyes, usually so warm, are full of concern.
"You don't want to do this," he says, his voice low and pleading.
"Do what, Eijiro?" I snap, frustration bubbling to the surface.
"You don't want to see him tonight," he insists, his grip tightening slightly.
"What are you talking about? You're the one who begged me to see him in the first place. So, surprise." I wave my hands in a mock cheer, but his expression remains stern. Confusion must be written all over my face.
"He's drunk.” Kirishima explains, his voice edged with frustration.
Correction: he's being a horndog.
"I already know that," I respond, trying to keep my cool.
"No. He's first-semester drunk.”
Correction: He’s being a horndog.
Correction: He's being a mean lil fucker.
The weight of his words sinks in, a sharp reminder of a side of Bakugou I've rarely seen. Usually, alcohol makes him overly affectionate, but when he's in a bad place, everyone allows him to act like an absolute jerk.
"Don't make me beg, Eijiro. I need to do this. I can't go home now," I plead, my voice cracking with desperation. My eyes lock onto his.
Eijiro hesitates, scanning the room again before reluctantly releasing me. "Do you want me to go with you?" he offers, his voice softening with concern.
"Katsuki would never hurt me. My feelings? All the time. But I'm not in any danger with him." my pitch matches his as I offer a small smile.
I step back, turning towards the door. Kirishima's eyes follow me as I open it and step onto the balcony. The humid night air wraps around me, heavy and thick.
I can hear her giggle again, a sound that slices through me like a knife. I step over to the right-hand side, drawn by the flirtatious sounds. As I move closer, the scene comes into focus: the two of them sitting by the pool, her legs draped over his as she leans back, laughing.
The sight of them together feels like a betrayal, a sharp twist of the knife already lodged in my heart. Each giggle, each touch, is a reminder of how easily he disregards my feelings, of how little I seem to matter to him. The pain is overwhelming, a tidal wave of hurt and anger.
"Katsuki Bakugou!" I bark, my voice slicing through the air. His head snaps in my direction, eyes wide and frantic like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, he stiffens, standing unsteadily by the pool's edge as if he’s wondering if his drunken mind is playing tricks on him.
In his panic to stand, he accidentally shoves the poor woman beside him into the pool. Her screams are piercing for a brief moment before being abruptly silenced as she plunges underwater. Katsuki pays her no mind, his focus solely on me as he stomps over with a fury that radiates off him in waves. Her distressed whines are lost in the chaos of the moment, falling on deaf ears as he seizes my arm with a grip that is both desperate and furious.
His eyes, a mix of shock and confusion, rake over me as if he's searching for some sign of authenticity, as if I’m someone else using a transformation quirk. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, his fingers digging into my skin as if I’m going to disappear again.
"Katsuki, let go," I manage to whisper, my voice trembling. His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of vulnerability behind his anger.
The night air feels thicker, almost suffocating, as we stand there, locked in a silent struggle. The woman's splashes and gasps barely register in our shared turmoil. Katsuki's grip tightens, his eyes searching mine for answers that I'm not sure I can give. The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming, a look that leaves me feeling exposed and raw.
Before I can say anything, his lips crash onto mine, rough and urgent, his hands gliding over my exposed skin as slides his palms to both sides of my face. The intensity of his kiss takes my breath away, and I instinctively reach for his wrists, trying to pull away.
“Bakugou, I—” He cuts me off again, his lips capturing mine more forcefully. His tongue flicks across my lower lip, demanding entry. I deny his request, trying to pull away once more.
“You’re such a brat. Do you know that?” His voice is low, a dangerous rumble.
“Do you know how absolutely insane you make me? You have completely ruined me, woman.” His hands run down my spine and reach for the small of my back, pulling our bodies impossibly close. His soft lips leave a trail of peppery kisses all over my neck and face, each one sending shivers down my spine.
“I mean, fuck.” He pulls away, his eyes dark and intense. “I can’t think straight. When I’m on a mission, I’m wondering if you’re watching me on TV. When I’m on patrol, I stick to routes with the fastest response time to your office.” His hands drop from my face, the initial shock wearing off, allowing his real emotions to surface. His voice rises with every word, each syllable dripping with raw emotion. His hands pull away from my body.
“You left me. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You left me some shitty note on the bed and thought I wouldn’t notice your disappearance? Well, I did!”
My hands reach out to him, but he pushes them away, almost scoffing at the gesture. He steps back, creating a wider gap between us.
“I’m the one who left? You’re the one that’s been cheating on me! You don’t get to make me feel sorry for your dumb ass and then fuck someone else, dickhead!” My voice trembles with a mixture of hurt and anger.
His eyes widen, nostrils flaring as he stretches his arms wide, his voice booming for anyone to hear.
“Are you serious?” he paces back and forth, his agitation clear. “I would never disrespect you like that. I can’t even believe you would think that.”
I scoff, crossing my arms defensively. “Coming home late, pulling away from me, not showing up for our planned date nights and dinners, having to stay at the office until ungodly hours, or maybe worst of all, going MIA for days at a time and leaving me to worry you’re dead.”
The words hang between us, heavy and accusatory, each one a dagger in the already bleeding wounds of our relationship.
Bakugou pulls out his phone, his fingers angrily slamming onto the touchscreen with each tap. He brings it up to his ear, his voice a low, furious whisper as he speaks to someone on the other end. The conversation is brief and tense, ending abruptly as he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket.
Without a moment's hesitation, he stomps up to me, his eyes blazing with determination. He reaches for my hand, yanking me toward him with a force that takes my breath away. His grip is firm as he moves backward toward the door, dragging me along despite my attempts to plant my feet and resist.
"Katsuki, stop!" I plead, my voice wavering, but he pays no attention to my words. His expression is set in stone, his jaw clenched tightly.
Ignoring my protests, he leans down. With surprising ease, lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder. The world tilts as I find myself staring at the ground, my hands pounding against his back in a futile attempt to make him release me.
“Put me down, Katsuki!” I shout, my voice echoing through the night air. But the drunken man before me is beyond reason, his focus solely on getting us out of there.
As we move through the party, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations falter and heads turn to watch the spectacle unfolding before them. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, a mix of confusion and curiosity. People part instinctively, creating a pathway as Bakugou strides purposefully toward the exit, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
"What the hell, Bakugou?" someone calls out, but he doesn't respond. His steps remain steady, his hand resting on the top of my ass. I catch glimpses of familiar faces, their expressions a blend of shock and concern, but no one dares to intervene.
The pulsating music and flashing lights of the party become a distant background noise as we finally make it outside. Bakugou's pace quickens as he heads toward the parking lot, and there, waiting under a streetlamp, is Izuku's car.
Bakugou finally sets me down, his grip momentarily loosening as he fumbles for his phone again. I take a deep breath, my heart still racing from the chaotic journey through the party. The car's headlights flicker to life, illuminating the scene as Izuku steps out, his face a mask of concern and confusion.
"What's going on?" Izuku asks, his eyes darting between the two of us.
Before I can answer, Bakugou cuts in, his voice still laced with anger and urgency. "Just get us out of here, Deku. Now."
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ovaryacted · 6 months
Note
If you need some crack to help lift the spirits.
Leon trying (and failing) to win over his s/o’s cat.
I’m talking like, Leon meets the fluffy beast for the first time. He tries to pet her and she glares at him. his s/o is like “This is princess. She’s very sweet :)”
His s/o can’t see it, but Leon can. That cat is a menace.
She knocks over a cup when she sees Leon and s/o kissing. S/o is like “aww someone wants attention.” But Leon K N O W S.
Whenever Leon and S/o are cuddling, the cat gets between them.
He sleeps over and wakes up to the cat sitting on his face to try and suffocate him.
When s/o is gone? It’s WWIII. Leon and the cat are in the same room and s/o isn’t there? WWE smack down on LEON. He gets beaten by the CAT.
Whenever s/o turns their back, Leon and the cat just GLARE at each other wherever they are.
He tries to pet her and she actually growls at him. Full on monster growl. He tries to win her over with treats and she hisses. He once got so fed up he hissed back. Only ended in mutually assured destruction between them.
They tolerate each other at best. But infront of s/o? They behave.
But! Bonding! Only during storms. The cat is afraid of thunder, and storms remind Leon of RC. So he’s awake in bed, and the cat just so happens to walk onto his lap and sit down. But as soon as the rain stops? It’s back to Tom and Jerry antics.
However. If the cat is sick or hurt, Leon is perceptive enough to know she needs to go to the vet. He’s studied the feline for so long he actually gets upset if she has to stay at the vet for an extended period of time.
But once she’s back? the Cone of shame can’t stop CLAWS.
But, it’s not all cats. Maybe there’s more animals. They all Love leon. He can read them and their behavior easily. He’s just been bested by this ONE DEMON CAT THAT HIS S/O NAMED PRINCESS
-angsty (not really anymore lmfao) anon
LMAOOOO OMG THIS IS FUNNY AND ALSO CUTE AND ENDEARING. I can see Leon being someone who is relatively good with animals and is often kind to them, but he just can't seem to get along with his partner's cat. I've seen so many videos of cats doing the same thing where they'll be so close with their guardians and the other person becomes their punching bag. Yeah, Leon would find himself in that predicament.
He can't be near his partner without the cat hovering nearby, probably jumping into their guardian's lap and craving attention, which really is just a tactic to get Leon away from them. That cat is just so petty that they'll stare and hiss at Leon when he kisses his significant other, almost as if daring him to fuck off.
God forbid Leon is in bed with his partner too, this cat will just come into bed and start slapping Leon in his sleep and it wakes him up so suddenly he feels a weight on his chest. He blinks in the dark, seeing orbs literally staring back at him as if this small pet was claiming their dominance over Leon.
He tries to mention it to his partner and says that he doesn't know why Princess hates him so much as he scratches the back of his neck. His lover just kind of laughs and shrugs, saying "She'll warm up to you, she's just not used to you yet. She's a sweetheart" and he thinks that it's reassuring enough so he drops it and moves on.
Except the moment of acceptance never comes, not in the way Leon wants anyway. He is literally fighting at home constantly, this cat, this so-called princess making an enemy out of him and trying so hard to get on his nerves. He'll get hit constantly, and his clothes are used as makeshift scratching toys, all torn up from the kitty's claws. Not to mention, Leon also gets scratched if he even tries to get too close to Princess, she'll literally jump his bones and pounce on him to get some hits in.
This is a man who kills bioweapons for crying out loud and here he is, getting his ass beat by a fucking cat. But he loves his partner, really does, and knows that they are good for each other so he decides to suffer in silence and let Princess tear him a new one. He tries to bribe them with treats and toys, giving them a peace offering so they'll back off but the cat just won't give him a break.
What he doesn't talk about are the rare moments when this demon cat silently accepts his existence. They hate the rain and hate thunderstorms, and one night Leon finds himself wide awake and walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, getting himself a cup of water. He can't sleep, knowing it will be a while before he can go back to bed. He watches the cat coming towards him, and he doesn't move, just pretends he doesn't see them in his peripheral.
The cat jumps onto the counter, tail curling as they watch Leon diligently, but there isn't malice in their eyes. He tilts his head towards the fluffy animal and starts to talk to them.
"You too huh?", he's asking this pet if they hate thunderstorms just like he did, and he gets a meow in response. He sips at his water again, nodding his head as he suddenly becomes the cat whisperer.
"Yeah, I hate the rain", Leon mumbles after, and they stay in the kitchen in comfortable silence after a while, enjoying the quality time shared with a new mutual understanding between them.
Maybe this cat ain't so bad. He'll think that to himself before getting his ass beat again the moment he wakes up.
154 notes · View notes
pixel-percy · 3 months
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🥊 Heartsteel Universe — You haven't seen your ex in years, not since he became a famous popstar, but today is about to ruin that streak. 🥊
🥊 Word Count: 3k 🥊 Music Vibes: Down Bad by Taylor Swift 🥊 Warning(s): Smut (fingering), public sex (technically), angst (about your ex/non-mutual break-up), & a sprinkle of jealousy 🥊 A/N: Apologies if there are any egregious errors, I've been trying to get this fic out of my head for so long now so I hunkered down to finally push it out today. I'll probably go back at a later date to spruce it up if it needs it. I passively enjoy League content & have favorites despite not having played in many years 🥰 heh
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He probably thought you didn’t recognize him… But you did. Of course, you did. How couldn’t you? Sure, he was a pop star, glitz and glam probably filled his every moment nowadays, but he was still your ex-boyfriend.
A chorus of “SETT!”s at the highest pitch possible had carried through the gym air and met your ears at the front desk. You did your best to stave off the annoyed expression on your face—not just because there was a high possibility of seeing him, but because the sound of the fangirls that played a hand in ruining your relationship rattled you to your bones. Of course, he’d choose this gym. Of course.
So when Sett had finally passed by the desk, you thought you might have gotten lucky since his head was turned, but at the last second, he’d locked eyes with you. A surge of emotions passed through your body like an electric shock. It was hard to tell what exactly he was feeling, and part of you was trying desperately not to care, but you could have sworn you saw a hint of sadness mixed with surprise before his security team pulled him away. The fangirls pushed against the security at the front of the gym, shouting and waving their posters and other memorabilia they wanted him to sign. You rolled your eyes and returned to the task you’d been doing before the chaos of your ex’s entrance.
You’d done everything in your power to push through the slew of emotions you felt weighing on your chest—you were pretty sure you’d cleaned a single machine at least three times in a row while in your emotional daze—and didn’t spot him once after his initial entrance. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or not and by the time you made it to the end of your shift at midnight, you were ready to blow off some steam.
The gloves you donned were thick and absorbed each punch that collided with the punching bag. One, two. One, two, three. One. One, two. You timed the hits with your breaths as a guitar solo pulsed in your earphones and sweat dripped down your forehead.
It had been a year since you’d last had contact with Sett, or, since you cut off your communication with him. The decision wasn’t easy but it was what you felt was best for you and your mental at the time. You remember how he pleaded, holding your hands in his, absolutely dwarfing them, eyes big and tearful, but your pain was too much, the paranoia was too much.
The magazine that sparked the argument in the first place sat between you. On the cover was a story about him, the upcoming star, and Ahri, from KDA, and their potential romance brewing. This was in addition to the already circulating rumor amongst fans about him and his bandmate, Aphelios. He denied it all, doing everything he could to convince you, but between them, the fans, and the comments they made about you, it was just too much. You couldn’t take it and you couldn’t bear the idea of forcing him to deal with your emotions on top of his big break. So you cut off.
The punch you landed was a little rough, bending your wrist more than intended, and you felt the sobering pain radiate through your hand. You practically growled at the feeling and shook it out in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension you felt already building in your tendons. The room you were in was empty, it was rare to see it full at this time of night, and you were thankful for it. 
That bubble of frustration you’d felt in your chest pushed out and you sent all of it through your next punch. The impact sent the punching bag flying… but not as far as you thought it might go. You blinked and noticed a pair of hands holding on to either side. A head peered around the object—red hair with two ears poking out of the top of the strands, a long scar across his nose, and familiar green-blue eyes.
You could make out the words “Hey” and your name and you contemplated leaving in your headphones before he gently tapped his ears. A request. Your jaw clenched, taking a long moment to consider him before you pulled out your headphones and pocketed them.
“Why are you still here?” you asked, a bit cold. His sheepish smile turned downward ever so slightly and his ears flattened on his head. There was a small bloom of sadness in your chest seeing it.
“Just, you know, working out,” he answered.
“I hoped you would’ve been gone by now.”
His expression dropped completely at that point.
“You did?”
Your jaw clenched. Everything in you wanted to not be in this situation, to see his sad expressions, to feel so damn bad about being cold to him, but you didn’t know what else to do. Inviting the heartache of leaving him back into your life, even for a moment, wasn’t something wanted. Flashes of his tear-filled eyes watching you as you left with your bags of stuff crossed your mind and it made you start moving.
You moved past him and into the rows of punching bags in this part of the gym. From behind you, he said your name and pleaded for your attention, but you wanted out. You almost made it to the bench your stuff was on when you felt his large hand wrap around your forearm. It wasn’t a rough touch, but it was firm enough to pull your eyes back to him.
“What did I do to make you hate me so much?” he asked, confusion and pain in his words. You knew tugging yourself free would be useless so you stood your ground and stared him down. His touch was like molten lava seeping into your skin. You didn’t hate him, you hated the people that came with his fame and the lack of protection to shield you from them.
“I don’t hate you,” you said quietly.
“Then why are you acting like this?”
“Because being in the same vicinity as you is painful.”
Sett paused and his brows furrowed.
“You were the one that broke up with me,” he said, words laced with the hurt you imagined he was also feeling. You stared at each other for a long moment. Nothing that came to mind could quell the tension nor the steady increase of your heartbeat. It all just fell flat.
“Let me go,” you said, tugging at your arm, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes despite all your attempts to stop them.
He huffed in disbelief.
“I haven’t seen you in a year. Not since you just, decided for the both of us that this wasn’t going to work. I’ve never known you to be so… So cruel,” he said. Sett’s eyes were as devastating as his words. It felt like a knife digging into your chest, threatening to carve your heart out.
“Sett, please,” you tried and turned your eyes down to where he held you.
“No, talk to me, please.”
“I have nothing,” you said. “I told you why I was leaving.”
“No, you gave me bullshit excuses and scenarios that didn’t exist,” he pushed… and he was right. You knew he was even back then when he sat across from you on the couch clasping your hands in his and tears streaming down his cheeks, just trying to understand.
“They weren’t excuses, Sett. I was so proud of you—s-still am, but…” You looked up at him and flared your nostrils with a sigh. There was no avoiding this. “Neither of us could have known how quickly fame would come. How possessive Heartsteel’s fans would be. How… brutal they’d be to me. How brutal it would be for me to watch rumors about affairs swirl. I couldn’t do it. I wanted you so bad, I wanted us, but I knew I couldn’t have you and… and…”
The tears had begun to fall. You cursed under your breath and wiped your free hand against your cheek, tears settling on the material boxing glove you still wore. Sett stepped forward and pressed his thumb over the new tear that had already begun its descent down your cheek. You recoiled a little but in response, he caught your chin and tilted up so you could look at him.
“You always had me,” he whispered. “Still do.”
Everything in you that wanted to bolt, to hide from the shame and sadness and anger seeing him made you feel, stilled. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat at his touch, at his attention, and you swallowed hard under his intense examination. The blue-green of his eyes felt so familiar and safe that it made the knot in your chest twist and expand.
“Sett… I don’t think we could even if we—”
“Why not?” he pushed. “I don’t care what any of them think. I never have. You didn’t even give me the chance to fight for us. For you… You just left.”
“I was scared. I didn’t want my heart broken by you… So I broke it for myself. I thought it’d be easier and it was but… Now…”
His ears twitched, a beam of hopefulness crossing his expression.
“Now? What about now?” he asked.
You didn’t know. A part of you felt so hopeful, so ready to try again just from his magnetic pull alone. How safe he made you feel. That hadn’t changed. You opened your mouth to say something but the sound of the door opening startled you both. Sett’s grip loosened enough for you to pull your arm away, both of you looking toward the interruption. A man in a suit you recognized as one of his security guards had begun approaching.
“There you are, sir—”
“Jackson, not now—No wait!” Sett called your name.
You’d already managed to get one of your gloves off so you could grab your bag and head toward the private bathrooms. You felt like you couldn’t breathe with his hand on your arm and now was your chance to pull yourself out of his orbit before you did something stupid.
You only managed to get to the door before you were stopped again by something yanking you to a stop, but this time it was the handle of your gym bag. You twisted around, ready to fight someone, but instead was met with a quick blur of Sett’s figure before his lips crashed into yours.
It was bold, something you hadn’t anticipated, and while you wanted to pull away… you felt him punching at the icy wall you’d built for yourself after everything. Every breath, every motion, everything felt like he was chipping at it piece by piece, until, well… It shattered.
Your free hand opened the door to the private bathroom and you dragged him into it. You were thankful that the cameras didn’t touch this part of the hallway, which only spurred on this potential mistake.
The two of you stumbled into the space—it was typically reserved for gym employees and special guests who wanted to avoid the more public locker rooms. It was spacious enough to house the usual bathroom amenities plus a bench for you to utilize as needed and the standing shower was nestled into the corner, blocked by the door whenever it was open.
Sett closed the door and locked it once you were both inside before his large hands clasped onto the back of your thighs to pull you into the air effortlessly. The bag you’d both been holding onto tumbled to the floor, kicked by the shuffle of his feet. Your back met the wall across from the door, inhaling deeply when his lips left yours to nip at your neck.
“Sett,” you tried, breathless.
“I’ve missed you—” His lips pressed urgently against your pulse. “So much.”
“Sett… We can’t… I can’t…”
Your mind was whirling at the feel of him, the heat he elicited from your body. His lips slowed to an agonizing pace but he heeded your words, head picking up to look directly into your eyes, surprised to find them not fully enveloped in lust… It was the adoration, the haze of love, that made your heart stutter. You could cry.
“I can stop,” he whispered. Sett’s gaze dropped to your lips. “I just…” You waited, drawing in a breath so deep that the orange-scented cleaner you were familiar with tingled in your nose.
All of your emotions and warning bells were as loud and overwhelming as an extreme weather siren. You shouldn’t do this. Any progress you’d made—either of you had made—was already shattered, leaving you vulnerable. But you still found yourself asking, “What?” It was just as soft as his whisper, timid, afraid.
Sett took in a similarly deep breath, except a hum danced within his throat and rumbled through his chest like a growl. 
“I don’t want to,” he said with a small, bashful laugh. One of his fangs pulled at his lip as he turned his eyes back up to yours. “I want to keep touching you… But only if you want me to. I can also leave. Just—Just tell me—” You placed one of your index fingers on his lips and he promptly stopped talking. 
You didn’t know what to do. Everything in you knew this was likely temporary, and the moment he left this room, things would go right back to the way they were, except this time with brand new wounds on your heart to cater to. But here he was, looking at you with his eyes, ears flat against his head, waiting for you to make your call, and probably just as scared as you. A sigh left you.
“Go ahead,” you said. Sett’s ears twitched, expression lightening. “Touch me.”
You got the feeling he’d waited for you out of courtesy, for you to potentially change your mind after that statement, but seized your lips with his after barely a second. His eagerness stole the breath from you, resulting in a chuckle that he inhaled and returned. He moved you toward the bench and effortlessly placed you down on it, lips never leaving yours.
The rush of approval had him on a mission that you guessed involved the shedding and ripping of clothes—but you were wrong. Instead, one of the hands that had been holding you reached down, slid past your waistband and started to work. A surprised gasp left your lips. He pulled away to gaze down at your face as it writhed in pleasure. The way his fingers moved against your clit was so deliciously familiar and mindful with every circle. 
You instinctively reached one of your hands down toward his growing bulge to provide some mutual relief, another familiar motion, but was stopped by Sett’s free hand. You brow furrowed and he leaned down to place a soft kiss upon it whilst guiding the hand he’d stopped on his neck. 
For a fraction of a second, you wondered if the world knew about this Sett, this loving, calm, goofy, loyal man you’d always known. Not just fist fights and bad boy leaning tendencies.
You selfishly hoped they never would.
“No, just you this time,” he said. You clocked the ‘this time’ but it was stifled the moment you felt one of his fingers ease into you. Your back arched.
Any protests you had left with the rest of your reservations about all of this. You nodded, warmth pooling in your cheeks now, and rolled your eyes back when the finger he’d slipped inside of you touched that spot he knew very well. Your body twitched, your other hand grabbing as much of his bicep as you could for balance, and let him work.
Sett’s mouth trailed kisses anywhere he felt like it as his fingers moved. Little whispers of your name left him occasionally but you could barely hear it over the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. You wished you weren’t so close to coming already, you wished he didn’t know you in and out in every way imaginable, yet here you were about to topple over the edge of bliss at the hands of a man you still loved—no matter how much you wanted to deny it.
“Sett,” you gasped.
“I know,” he assured, the hand on your hip the only thing truly grounding you to this plane of existence. 
The tightness in your stomach finally released, a moan tumbling from your lips as stars danced behind your eyelids. Sett helped you ride through your orgasm with targeted praise, soft touches, and lips. Everything about his patience and opt for celibacy just added to your surprise about everything. He helped you to a sitting position and rubbed your back, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I…” You blew hot air out into the room. “Shit.” Sett laughed and brought one of your hands up to his lips.
“Yeah,” he said knowingly. You turned to catch his gaze, a smile breaking out on his lips that you couldn’t help but return. “Can I… give you a ride home?”
Reality started to set in after the high and you could feel the hardening of your heart begin again. You bit your lip in contemplation. His expression started to soften again, almost as though he were ready to be hurt by your rejection once more.
“Alright,” you said. The creeping freeze of your heart halted enough for you to add, “Maybe we can grab late-night ramen and talk…?”
“I’d like that,” he answered.
“Do not text your Mom about this,” you added with a deadpan look that made him laugh. He got to his feet and gently tapped his knuckles against your chin.
“No promises,” he said cheekily. You rolled your eyes, free of any real annoyance, and smiled. No matter what you wanted yourself to believe, you missed him too.
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written-in-flowers · 1 year
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A Different World: Gwinam x Reader
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Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Plussize!fem!Reader
Genre: Smut. So much Smut. Minors DNI please
Word Count: 12k
Rating: M....very much M, explicit
Summary: Before the outbreak, you never thought you had a chance with Yoon Gwinam, and he thought the same about you. But, once you've both come into a new state of being, a "hambie", suddenly sexual fantasies don't stay fantasies.
Tags: Fat Shaming, Bullying, Toxic Friendships, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Light Masochism, Spanking, Pulic Masturbation, Masturbation in bathroom, Mutual pining, blood and gore, blood kink, spit kink, rape fantasy, thigh worship, body worship, rough sex, rough oral sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, face slapping, facials, cum swallowing, multiple orgasms (m. and f.), multiple positions, no breaks, they're both fucking pervs and so horny for each other, kind of a forbidden romance? well, until all their friends die anyways. ****
You fixed your shirt for the millionth time that morning. You hated how your stomach and chest lightly pushed on the clear buttons of your shirt; it made you look fatter tucked into your skirt. The skirt is a different breed of annoying. Your thick thighs used to chafe from rubbing together throughout the day. You usually pull on gym pants if it becomes too much, but deodorant sticks and your thigh high stockings make it easier to bear. Other girls can wear the pants without a word; you, the chubby one, can't. You hoped the shirt did not pop open from the stretch. The laundry schedule at home meant you'd have at least one day with the smaller school shirt. Fixing it again, you decided to button your blazer over it for now. When you get to class, you can unbutton it to breathe before doing it again.
"Stop doing that. You're going to make it worse," Hyejin said from beside you. "You should've gotten a larger size."
"The store didn't carry any more of it," you admitted quietly. "I need to go there later to see if they have them again."
Choi Hyejin, small and narrow, was one of the two people you're certain you hate. A petite, brown haired girl from an upper class family, she carried the haughty air and snotty opinions of the high society she came from. Had you two not grown up together, you're sure you'd be her favorite punching bag. But since your fathers worked together, and your mothers ran in the same social circles, she resorted to backhanded compliments like this.
"Or you can have it tailored like my brother did," said the girl on your left.
Slender and tall, Kim Soomin was part of the girl's volleyball team and well liked in the athletic scene. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, she wore her volleyball jacket over her uniform, which made her look broader but slimmer at the same time. Another girl from an affluent family, you and her became close on your first day of primary school. That is where your trio-friendship forged, and where it would remain until the end of time. Soomin didn't discourage you like Hyejin did, but you knew why she hung out with you. It's the same reason they both did:
They look hotter when compared to you. Because even with Hyejin's hooked nose and Soomin's height, at least they're not fat.
"I suppose, but my mom might say no," you told her, holding your books to your chest. "She'll just tell me to lose weight."
"Then why don't you? It'd be better for your health, if anything. It can’t be that hard.”
The false concern for your health stabbed another hole in you. Hyejin and Soomin might not be ideal friends, but it was certainly better than having none. With at least these two, you avoided the cruel, harsh bullying you often witnessed happen to others. If Choi Hyejin and Kim Soomin liked you, then you must be cool. However, the trade off is the occasional 'you're fat and that's why your life sucks' discussion. You knew they didn’t actually care if you lost any weight. The longer you remained fat, the better they’d continue to look in comparison. In your mind’s eye, you saw all the boys who flirted with Hyejin at school. They ignored you completely. Not that you cared. Only one boy in Hyoson High School caught your attention, and he’d never notice you. Not in a million years.
"You can always come to the school gym with me!” said Soomin. “I don't mind having a partner and the coach won't say anything about it."
"No thanks. I hate gyms. I always feel people are watching me."
"Nobody watches you, YN," Hyejin scoffed. "They don't care as much as you think they do."
You wanted to tell her that a fat girl in a gym often attracted some kind of torment, but the words caught in your throat. Looking up the path leading into school, you spotted him. Yoon Gwinam. A tall boy with black hair that reached his neck, he wore the school shirt open with a black sweater underneath, likely to fight off the chill. Long limbs made him look longer and broader. You often imagined him completely encapsulating you in a hug, your head on his shoulder and hearing his heart beating. Your heart fluttered seeing him standing in the distance with his friends. He stood, chuckling and smiling when one of them made a joke. You wished it was you making him smile like that. You’d do anything to see it up close. Gwinam is a tough guy; you’ve seen him beat up people with little effort. The sort of guy who’d protect you and care for you above everyone else; the guy whose heart would only melt for you. No guy you’d managed to date treated you the way you wanted.
“-We did it by that old railroad track outside the train stations,” Hyejin’s story broke into your thoughts as you walked. Your eyes kept focusing on Gwinam, leaning against a building near the school. Absent-mindedly, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, thinking it made you more attractive. “I love it when they groan. It’s super hot when a guy is vocal.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” Soomin laughed. “Especially since he’s dating Aro.”
“Aro should take better care of her man then, if you know what I mean.”
You tuned out Hyejin’s recount, and thought of saying something Gwinam as you walked by. ‘Hey Gwinam’. ‘Morning Gwinam’. ‘Gwinam, please rip off my panties, and fuck me hard.’ No, the last one is a bit too much. Besides, if Soomin and Hyejin saw you talking to him, they’d ask why you did. His reputation around school wasn’t very good; he hung around with bullies who picked on people weaker than them. Yet, it was this bad reputation that made you want him more. You didn’t want to “fix” him. You wanted him as he was, meanness and all. You couldn’t really explain it. Something about him attracted you, and they wouldn’t understand.
“Are you still talking to him?” asked Soomin, amused. “Or have you already thrown him away?”
“Nah, we’re still talking,” she said. Of course they were. You knew Hyejin would eventually forget about her newest conquest and move onto someone else. “He said he can’t get enough of me.”
“Oh my god, you’re so bad.”
The thought of Gwinam only wanting sex from you crossed your mind. It was why most guys approached you: they thought heavy girls are desperate and will sleep with them for crumbs of affection. Normally you reject these guys, since high school boys like to brag. Yet, if Gwinam ever showed interest, you’d crumble immediately. If you put out for any guy in school, it’d be him. Deep down, you sensed he enjoyed the kind of sex you did…At least, in your fantasies he did.
“You know, YN, he’s got a pretty cute friend,” she told you. “I mean, he’s not Namjoon hot, but he’s okay looking. He’s definitely your type. I could set you up-YN? Are you listening?”
“Huh? What?”
Hyejin looked between you and where Gwinam stood and let out a soft laugh. “Oh my god, no way,” she teased, “You’re actually checking out Yoon Gwinam?”
“What?! No,” you defended instantly. “I wasn’t looking at him at all.”
“He’s a jerk, YN,” said Soomin. “He’s a bully. How could you like a guy that bullies people?”
“He’s also a total idiot,” added Hyejin.
“I wasn’t looking at him,” you repeated firmly, heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just…He’s in my eyeline, that’s all.”
“He’s not even a cute bully,” said Soomin. “You know, like the guys in the dramas. He’s ugly. He’s got a weird face shape.”
You wanted to hit her. Gwinam is by no means ugly. You liked his face, his body, his hair, and everything else. In your daydreams, he liked your body too. He’d spend ages telling you how beautiful he thinks you are, and how much you turn him on.
“Not to mention that ugly haircut,” Hyejin scoffed. “Besides, I wouldn’t bother. It’s not like he’d be into you.”
“Hyejin,” Soomin said carefully. “Don’t be so mean.”
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest,” she retorted. “Guys like him are total assholes. He’d probably laugh at you and walk away if you confessed.”
“I won’t confess because there’s nothing to confess.”
It pained you to admit it, but Hyejin was right. Gwinam would never like a girl like you. You looked at him one more time as you came closer. He didn't even look your way. Why should he? There’s nothing special about you. Guys never looked at you; why should he be any different? You walked past his group, and your eyes met him for a split second. You quickly turned away before he noticed you. It made your cheeks burn more, simply having him acknowledge you for a second even if he thought nothing of you.
“Ugh, so gross,” Soomin huffed.
“The dude’s a walking red flag. You should like someone else,” Hyejin smiled slowly, “Like Lee Suhyeok. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Yes, Suhyeok was the handsome, friendly guy any sane girl would like. Yet, you didn’t. You found it difficult when you compared him to Gwinam, who checked all your boxes. Your fondness for bad boys will eventually come back to bite you, you know. It was best for everyone if you kept it to yourself.
“Gosh, I’d kill to get a slice of him,” Hyejin sighed.
“But he’s not into you,” you said to her. A little dig into her made you feel good. “He likes someone else, I heard.”
“That’s because he hasn’t gotten with me yet,” she replied with a sly smile.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to get with you because you fuck any guy who gives you attention,” you heard yourself say to her. You instantly gasped and Soomin laughed out loud. “Oh, um, well, I mean maybe-”
“-Maybe ‘what’? At least guys actually look at me, unlike you. Namjoon told me he and his friends have a bet going, you know,” she spat back. “Yeah, to see who could bag The Pig. He told me to introduce you to his friend, since he said if he wins, he’d split the money with us. Want to know what I said? I said ‘no’ because I’m a good friend.”
“What?” Your throat dried up at that confession. It was always your worst fear: a guy showing interest as a dare from his friends. “So, you were going to set me up with someone who means to play a prank on me?”
“Oh, come on, like you’re that dumb. I told him you wouldn’t fall for it. He’d have to try really hard since you always get all weird when you like a guy.”
“But you still knew,” you stopped walking, and gripped your books tightly. “You were still going to go through with it just so some asshole keeps liking you.”
You wanted to hit her. You wanted to call her every name in the book, and smack her until you drew blood. She thought herself so above you and Soomin. You pictured yourself literally knocking her down a size. Your nails dug into the soft cover of your textbooks, so tight your knuckles burned. Images of you sitting in a restaurant, waiting on a guy who might never come, tightened your chest. You hated her.
“I was going to tell you,” she said, “Stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’ll go through with it. You chicken out every time a guy comes onto you. I told you about it just now, didn’t I? See, I’m a good friend to you and you say mean things to me. I was only looking out for you.”
She turned on her heel and continued walking. Soomin stayed behind for a moment, seeing your eyes glare at Hyejin’s back. “YN?” she came to you cautiously, “YN, we gotta go to class.”
Why were you friends with her? Why were you friends with either of them? You knew why. Because it was better to be friends with them, taking the licks, than not having friends at all.
“YN-”
“-Fuck off,” you hissed at her before leaving her side.
You blinked back the tears building up in her eyes. Going into the school with teary eyes might attract more attention than you’d like. Crying in front of people showed weakness. You couldn’t let people know you’re weak because then you’d become a target too. Walking away from the school pathway, you ended up in the construction site beside the main building. You aren’t sure what the school planned to make the building, but that didn’t matter to you. The half finished, concrete building remained abandoned during the day time. Nobody will hear you crying. You walked until the sounds of the other students faded into nothingness.
You’re a joke to them. You’re the dumb, ugly fat friend who they can look at when they feel bad about themselves. Every rude word, every mean comment from everyone in your life came rushing back to you. Your mother scolded you for eating more than you should. Your father said he was glad because then he didn’t have to worry about boys coming to his door. Hyejin liked pointing out the flaws in your outfits and Soomin constantly offered unsolicited health advice. You doubted this “friend” of Namjoon’s would actually like you. Not even the boys you’d gone out with before liked you. They always shift uncomfortably or tell you to keep it a secret. God forbid their friends should find out they liked the fat girl.
You collapsed against a bare, concrete wall and looked outside a window frame. Fresh air blew past the window, only just brushing the window sill you leaned against. You forced yourself to enjoy the free air to drown out the pain festering inside you. Visions of beating every single person in your life passed like a movie reel. You briefly imagined Hyejin getting into an accident that disfigures her pretty face forever; you pictured your mother finally dying and being free of her hateful words. Why couldn’t people just let you live?
As you stood there thinking, your favorite daydream came back. Gwinam is your boyfriend, and he hears what Hyejin said to you and what Namjoon’s friends planned to do, and beats them all up for you. In this daydream, you have a protector who adores you; who loves you as you are. A Gwinam who’d burn down the world for you; who’d bring ultimate pain to anyone who hurt you. You knew this Gwinam did not exist, but you comforted yourself with the fantasy anyways. Wiping your eyes, hoping the redness won’t be noticeable, sudden footsteps from the next room made you jump. You listened closely and realized it was multiple people.
“I told you to have the money with you.”
The familiar voice of Gwinam sent shivers down your body. You didn’t know who he’d come with, but you guessed it was his gang of bullies. Visions of what they might do if they caught you in the building, weeping and weak, and you pressed yourself against the wall. You could stay there until they left, or maybe you could sneak out through the window. But, the temptation guided you to the nearby hole in the wall meant to be a doorway. You rarely get a chance to watch Gwinam undisturbed this way. Usually, you’re with one of your friends or in a crowded room, and someone might see you. These moments didn’t come very often, so you seized it. Quietly, you walked to the door nearby and peeked one eye into the main room.
There he was, standing a few feet from a short, skinny boy. You immediately recognized the boy as Park Jisung, a boy from your homeroom. Jisung cowered away from Gwinam, who had him cornered in the empty room. Gwinam looked at Jisung the way a cat looked at a mouse. Your eyes scanned over his long frame; you pictured him standing front of you with the same stare. If you wanted anyone to bully you, it’d be Gwinam.
“I’m-I’m sorry, Gwinam,” Jisung gave a bow, shaking and nervous. “I’ll bri-bring it tomorrow.”
“But I need it today,” he said. He sighed, “Guys like you really fucking piss me off.”
‘Yes. Yes, get pissed off. Make him regret it,’ your darkest fantasies screamed. You pushed yourself against the wall, heat starting to flare up in your body despite the cold wall. ‘Hit him. Hurt him. Hit me. Hurt me.’
“I’m sorry, Gwinam! If you give me a little bit of time, I’ll get you the money. I promise. My parents didn’t have any to-”
“-I don’t care,” he said. “Fucking asshole.”
You flinched as Gwinam’s hand slapped Jisung across the face. Jisung stumbled to the side. Psh, weakling. He didn’t even hit that hard. You looked at Gwinam’s face, anger rising in him as he smacked Jisung around more. If only he did that to you. You clenched your thighs together watching him swing his long arms in each slap. Once Jisung hit the ground, Gwinam’s kicks began harsher and deeper. He looked so hot. Being angry or scared brought out a person’s true nature; Gwinam liked hurting people, and you liked watching him hurt people. You liked how Gwinam threw Jisung around like a rag doll, smacking and kicking him. You thought of him doing the same to you. Guys like Gwinam made you feel small and weak, despite your heaviness. You bit your lower lip thinking of those hands pinning you to the ground, leaving bruises around them for later. He’d throw you on the ground, tear open your shirt to bite and slap your tits before fucking you. No foreplay. No gentleness or kindness. You’d be wet from his ferocity alone.
“Piece of shit,” Gwinam growled.
“What a loser,” you heard one of his friends laugh.
Your body slowly began grinding into the side of the doorway. Nobody would see you in the dimness, surely. They’re preoccupied with Jisung, who wept and begged them to stop. Your pussy pulsed watching Gwinam kick and stomp on him. You stuck your hand underneath your skirt, carefully running your fingers over your sex. It’d have to be quick, but watching Gwinam in the flesh this way made you wetter. Tightness built between your thighs, that familiar arousal burning as your fingers trailed over your slit. The chilling wall caused your nipples to harden, and you thought of Gwinam’s mouth on them. He’d bite and suck as his cock grinded into your pussy. You’d grip his shoulders and arms, nails clawing his flesh as he teased you.
You’d let him take you however he wished. You’d be his personal fuck toy; a thing only made to pleasure him.
“Psh, pathetic motherfucker,” Gwinam spat at Jisung. He crouched down and lifted his head by the hair.
You bit down on your lip as you circled your clit. His tongue swirls around it greedily, gripping your thighs hard and growling from the taste. He stood Jisung up to his feet. He’d do the same to you. He’d laugh at you for getting so wet so easily; he’d call you a whore, smack you one more time, before continuing the sexual torture. Maybe he’d do what he did to Min Eunji once. He’d grab a marker and write filthy words on your body, on your clothes, so people knew you belonged to him. Screw what your friends thought. This is your fantasy, not theirs. Your lips grew wetter, and you pushed your panties aside. You started rubbing yourself quicker. A slew of dirty thoughts came as Jisung groaned, and coughed.
Gwinam spanking your ass until it becomes tender and hot.
Gwinam spitting in your mouth, then calling you a filthy bitch for doing it.
Gwinam tying you to his bed at home and leaving you there for whenever he gets horny.
The climax hits you hard with the usual scene: Gwinam chasing you through a forest, feral and high on adrenaline, until he gets his hands on you. You rode it out on your hand as you pictured him fucking you like an animal. His teeth gritted, his muscles tense and tight, and his cock shooting cum over your face and breasts. It’d hurt, but you’d love that. Your juices coated your fingers, and you shivered as you came down into your post-orgasm glow. Gwinam finished beating up Jisung, who tearfully ran away when Gwinam and his friends let him go. Panting, running his hands through his hair, Gwinam stood there a moment while his friends left the building. You continued circling your sensitive nub, wishing you could go for a second time. The bold fantasy of you offering yourself to him right then crossed your mind, but no, you’d never do that. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Gwinam saw you. He’d turned his head casually; you supposed he’d done it to check if anyone had seen him, and spotted you in the other room. You froze in place, quickly withdrawing your hand from your panties. Due to the angle, Gwinam didn’t see your lower half, but him having seen you was enough. Dark eyes swept down the parts of your body he could see. What if he suspected what you’d done? What if he’d heard you and purposefully prolonged the beatdown? You gasped and whipped your body around out of sight. You worried he might confront you. You held back a whimper imagining him coming over to you, sticking his hands in your panties, and telling you how naughty you’ve been.
‘Insatiable slut. You can’t even wait until we’re alone to touch yourself for me. Do it again. Now.’
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. You heard Gwinam’s friend call out to him, and you heard him leave. In reality, he’d never want to touch you. He’ll no doubt go to his friends and tell them what he suspected. They’ll taunt and tease you forever about it. Soomin and Hyejin would be disgusted with you, because even if you disliked them, they’re all you have. On wobbly legs, you picked up your things and left the construction site.
Your fantasies will always be exactly that. Fantasies. Nothing more.
How did you do it? How did you catch his attention when nothing else does? How do you make this entire world slow down when you walk past him? Any time Gwinam saw you, he swore everything around him stopped for you. Most girls at school didn’t have that effect on him. They were too skinny or too annoying. Gwinam liked girls with soft curves that made him drool. You are such a girl. The briefest of glances from you haunt him throughout the rest of the day. That small twinkle of acknowledgement sent him into a stunned silence for several seconds, if not minutes. So, to see you in that half-finished building, breathless and clutching the wall, inspired a fresh series of fantasies. He thought of going up to you in that building, pulling down your panties and shoving himself inside you. You’d stay up against that wall, shirt open and tits bouncing, as he pumped his cum into you. He loved your tits. And your thighs. He liked peeking at them during class. The desk always stopped just underneath them so he had a nice view. Lord knows what he’d do if you sat beside him. He’d leave class with wet fingers every day.
But, sadly, those dirty thoughts would never come to be. A smart, clever girl who always did well would never want an idiot like him. Girls like you wanted handsome, smart guys like Suhyeok. Gwinam is forced to live with thoughts of you in his arms in his dreams. You must be so soft. You always smell nice too. He’s noticed it before; it’s a flowery perfume that drew him to you. He thought of your laugh as he walked towards school with Myunghwa and the others. He wished he could be the one making you laugh. Visions of kissing you, walking hand-in-hand with you, and being with you clouded his mind. He’d be good to you. Gwinam wasn’t kind very often, but he’d treat you so well. He’d give you anything you wanted; do anything you asked of him.
He’d hurt someone for you, if you wished it.
The group entered the school before classes began, and Gwinam caught sight of you rushing past them. A hint of floral perfume hit his nose, causing him to breathe it deeply. He noticed you heading towards the bathrooms. He smirked. You must’ve made such a mess. Too bad he isn’t there to lick you clean. He shook the image of your soaked pussy from his head when Myunghwa smacked the nape of his neck.
“-Are you listening to me?” the short boy asked him irritably.
“Huh? Yeah, I was.”
Myunghwa scoffed disbelievingly. “Fucking idiot,” he said, “You never pay attention.”
“He was checking out Park YN,” Changhoon, another part of their group, smirked. “I can’t believe you like that fattie. She’s not even pretty in the face.”
“I wasn’t checking her out,” Gwinam said defensively. “I wouldn’t touch her even if she was the last girl on earth.” He considered the feeling might be mutual. You’d never truly like him. If you were doing what he thought, it must’ve been for someone else. The idea alone boiled his blood. “She’s ugly.”
No, you’re not. You’re beautiful. So beautiful. He thought of the other day when he saw you in the library. You often go there during lunch to catch up on homework or to read quietly. You liked reading, he noticed. You’d sat beside a window, and he admired how the sun caught in your hair, illuminating your face. He put the image to memory for those tough nights at home. Whenever his dad called him useless or his mom shook her head in disappointment, he pictured you in that chair. You’d lift your head, smile, and tell him he’s not a waste of space. You’d encourage and lift his spirits up…and he’d kiss you. He thought of your lips and the cherry lip balm he spotted in your bag. They must taste so good.
And he’d never have them. He’d never have you. He’s not supposed to like girls like you. He’s supposed to like skinny, pretty girls like your friends. Yet, those girls didn’t excite him like you did.
Myunghwa went on with some story about how someone mentioned his name in Jinsu’s disappearance. The police went to his house to question him. Gwinam wanted to tell him they’d done the same to him and the others. It’s not their fault Jinsu made it so easy for them; he never fought back until that night. Gwinam recalled the way his body hit the sign, hit a balcony, before finally crashing into the alleyway. He’d never seen a dead person before. He’d been sure that the police might arrest him. They could’ve found fingerprints on Jinsu’s skin or caught him on camera somehow. Yet, they’d done the opposite. They believed the story of them having been out in the street and nowhere near Jinsu’s last location.
Gwinam walked into class on his own, and spotted you in your usual seat next to him. You shared a desk space with your friend, Soomin, but his desk was across the aisle. He bit the inside of his lip seeing you crossed your legs under your desk. A small peek of your thigh high stocking stirred more dirty images in his mind. He liked how a bit of pudge went over the stocking bands; if he ever got his hands on those thighs, he’d lose his mind. He took his seat nearby and did his best to not look at you. He thought about the construction site again, picturing you fingering yourself to him and cumming hard on your pretty fingers. He shifted his gaze slightly to see your chest exactly where he knew it’d be. The combined picture of your thighs and your breasts caused him to swallow thickly and look elsewhere. He’d die of embarrassment if he got a hardon in class, but how could he ignore such a sensual sight?
As Mr. Lee, their science teacher, began class when Gwinam noticed you starting to pull off your blazer. Logic and reason said you must be hot, considering you’re sitting near the windows. But his horny, perverted mind said you were taking it off for him. You wore a tight shirt today, so it showed off the curves of your bosom and tummy. His jaw dropped when he spotted a white strap through the fabric. Your bra, he hoped. He quickly thought of you in his lap, wearing nothing but your skirt and stockings. No bra. No panties.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dared a chance to look at it. A message from Myunghwa.
‘Wow, you got it bad for her, huh? Bet she’d crush you if she got on top.’
He clenched his jaw and put the phone away. Whenever he felt a new fantasy coming on, his friends ruined it for him. He wished he could sit closer. He wished he could talk to you, and only you. You’re so smart. You answer Mr. Lee’s questions without hesitation and so eloquently. Your friends might be pretty, but they’re complete airheads. You’re the intelligent one. The intelligent one with pretty lips and eyes that made him melt.
Gwinam went through absolute torture during class. Not even amusing himself by bullying Eunji distracted him. Seeing the buttons between your tits stretch from the size, he knew he’d have plenty of jerk-off scenarios tonight.
‘Gwinam? Could you help me with my shirt? It’s so tight and uncomfortable. Please, take it off me.’
He squeezed his eyes tightly and bit his tongue as the signal for lunch rang through the school.
‘The cold’s making my nipples hard. Would you warm them with your mouth? They’re so hard and my hands aren’t as warm as your tongue.’
Fucking hell. Gwinam stood up from his desk before you did, and decided a walk to the cafeteria might clear his head.
‘Oh, Gwinam, your cock’s so big-’
Fuck. No.
‘-Put it between my tits, and fuck them. I want to make you cum using my soft, huge tits.’
He pushed into a bathroom stall, locked the door and started unbuckling his pants.
‘God, they just swallow your dick. I can’t wait for you to cum all over them. I love cum. I want you to cum on me. Please, Gwinam, cover me in your yummy cum.’
His dick throbbed in his hand in every stroke. His eyes closed and he thought about you in the construction building. He thought of catching you touching yourself, and taking advantage of your vulnerable position. Gwinam pictured himself tearing off your clothes, exposing your luscious body, and tasting every inch of you. You’d struggle at first, pleading and whimpering for him to stop, but you’d soon give into him. Gwinam focused on the image of you riding him to climax. Your tight walls clenched hard around him as he rubbed his thumb over your clit; your breasts bouncing in his face until he suckled on one of them. The thought made him cum within minutes. That’s what you did to him. He wished you didn’t have such a fierce hold on him. He wished he didn’t desire you so much, but he couldn’t help it. He’d become completely blind to any other woman he met. He only wanted you.
Coming down from his orgasm, he cleaned himself up and decided to head to the cafeteria. He felt refreshed having gotten you out of his system. He wondered if he might see you there or if you’d go to the library again today. He didn’t care which one. He’d have to keep his leering to a minimum now that Myunghwa saw him looking at you. He came up with explanations to why he’d been looking your way, but none of them sounded convincing. When he entered the cafeteria, he did see you there. You stood in line with Soomin. You’d put your blazer back on, which dampened his spirits a bit. But then again, it might be good for him. He’d only just finished rubbing one out to you. He can’t do it twice in such a short amount of time.
He got into the line two people behind you, and looked at his phone instead. Myunghwa and Changsoon taunted him over what they’d seen in class. They made fun of you, talking about how your buttons must be holding on for dear life or telling him to be careful as you might break his bed getting into it. He wanted to kill them. He didn’t care if they talked badly about other girls; he didn’t want them talking badly about you. But, rather than tell them off, he joined in the conversation.
‘Kekeke, she probably jiggles around like jello.’
This amused them. Yet, he looked at you as the line moved. You styled your hair differently. Usually, you wore it tied back from your face, but today it flowed freely around your face. Gwinam did not have a particularly favorite look; he loved anything you wore or did to yourself. He watched you chat with Soomin. By your annoyed gaze and clenched jaw, he assumed you’re arguing quietly. No doubt your “friend” Choi Hyejin said something to upset you, and Soomin defended her. He often overheard you three talking at lunch or in class. He liked the sound of your voice, so sue him. Hyejin in particular liked putting you down, and you let her. Just like how he let Myunghwa talk down to him.
He shoved the person in front of him out of the way, stepping to them when they protested until they backed off.
“-She didn’t mean anything by it. She only meant that you’re not that good with guys, so she was trying to help,” Soomin said to you as you started down the line. “She didn’t know Namjoon planned anything until he said it.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, YN, you know Hyejin cares about you. I do too.”
“Okay.”
You shut down. Whatever Soomin said to you left you defeated. He thought of pushing Soomin aside and holding you close. Whatever prank or mean thing Hyejin said to you would be smothered away by his kisses. He grabbed a tray, and began going down the line with you. Seeing your cold stare, and how you avoided Soomin’s gaze, you’d gotten locked inside your head. It happened to him a lot too. Whenever Myunghwa insulted or hit him, or whenever his father called him a worthless piece of shit, he’d sink into the dark, lonely place in his mind. If only he could pull you from it, then you would never feel pain again. Soomin must’ve given up trying to reach you, because then she scoffed and walked away to sit down. This left a gap between you and him. He thought about what he’d just done in the bathroom, and wished he’d taken you with him. As you reached the end of the line, the both of you reached for a pair of utensils at the same time.
“Oh, sorry,” you said timidly. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, I…”
“It’s okay,” he said, picking up one of the wrapped pairs to hand to you, “Here.”
“Thank you.”
Oh, your eyes. He never gave them enough appreciation. So much innocence and sweetness shined from them, yet they hid something much darker within. He could tell. He wanted to say more, but what? Rarely did he get this close to you. He was always worried someone might see and make fun of him for it. But, there’s nobody who matters around him. He saw you turn away from him shamefully. No doubt you’re remembering what happened on the construction site. When he did not look away from you, you squeaked out:
“I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I promise.”
Did you think he’d hurt you? “Good,” he said, bending down to your ear, “I won’t tell anyone what I saw either. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
What in the hell was he doing? Trying to scare you away? He mentally kicked himself when he spotted your widening eyes. He watched you scurry away from him like a mouse, and it left him disheartened. He couldn’t help himself, could he? What did he think you’d say to that? Gwinam bit his tongue again, then went to sit with the gang. He forced himself not to look at you. Looking at you in front of the guys meant more teasing. He only liked one kind of teasing, and it was the teasing he got from you.
You woke up with a gasp. Your heart hammered in your ears, and suddenly you croaked in pain. You felt as if someone dislodged your bones, then put them back into place. Heat burned behind your eyes, and briefly you smelled blood all around you. Hunger. A distinct hunger rumbled in your body, but something inside you fought it back. Your mind went back and forth between this limbo of cravings and denials before you paused all together. You blinked your eyes a few times as your vision cleared.
It took several moments for you to register that you were soaked to the bones on the cafeteria floor. All around you, you hear gargled snarling and sharp hissing sounds. You heard feet shuffling or skidding across the floor; the cracking of bones made you flinch every time it sounded in the room. You kept your eyes closed, hoping if you open them, you’ll be back home in your bed. But, no you weren’t. You knew you weren’t.
Sitting up, you felt a distinct soreness in your neck, shoulder, stomach and arm. You looked down at your shaking hands to see them stained with blood. You found more of it on your uniform and stockings. You took deep breaths as you spotted the deep, crimson stain on your left forearm. Gingerly, you pulled up your sleeve to see a bite mark deep in your flesh. It looks fresh, as if it’d never healed. But, when you touched it, you felt no pain. The same was said for the scratches and bites on your stomach, the injuries having slashed through your shirt. You pressed down on the mark on your neck, only to hear the squishing of severed flesh. Curious, you poked your pinky into a hole in your neck, feeling no pain whatsoever. How could this be?
“Am I dead?”
You stared around the empty cafeteria. The people who’d been there had not escaped. The blood stains on the walls, windows, floors and tables told you as much. The creatures who’d once been classmates must’ve attacked the others, turning them into beasts as well. But, why had that not happened to you? You jumped suddenly when the gnashing, guttural sounds came from behind you. Your eyes widened in shock. Hyejin. At least, what was left of her. Hyejin, once dainty and posh, now cracked her neck this way and that as she snapped her jaws like a turtle. You saw her front covered in blood, more of it smeared around her mouth and on her hands. Blood red eyes instantly locked with yours. You let out a scream as she rushed towards you, hands outstretched and clawing for you. You shielded yourself in a fetal position, ready to be devoured by her, before you realized she wasn’t touching you. Hyejin, reeking of rotting flesh, only hunched a few inches from you. You heard her sniffing the air around her. She moved her head side to side, still biting and growling as drool came from her yellowed teeth. But, she did not touch you.
Soon, Hyejin backed away. She jolted upright, and began moving from you to the center of the room. You realized she was not the only one in the room. Other students who’d sat in the cafeteria now jerked and stumbled around. You stood up, almost slipping on the wet floors, and waited for one of them to notice you. But, none of them did. They should be charging at you; they should be ripping and tearing at your body, but they did not. To them, you’re not there. Touching your wounded neck again, you realized something: You’d become one of them. That is why they did not attack you as you walked out of the cafeteria.
Nor when you reached the pathways outside school. All around you, students walked around, sniffing and searching for more human meat. None of them bothered you unless you bothered them first. Even then, they only snapped their teeth at you before moving away. It felt surreal. An ignorant person might believe they’re in a dream, but you knew better. Whatever happened here has led to hundreds of students being infected with a mind altering disease. You wondered what could’ve caused this as you walked around the school. Biochemical warfare? Chemical lab experiment gone wrong? You couldn’t think of anything else. You could only focus on trying not to attract any of the zombies around you.
It all came back to you as you walked. One minute, you’d been apologizing to Hyejin for what you’d said about her, and the next a rush of students flooded the room. You’d been the first to stand from your seat. You remembered students screaming with terror as they ran through the cafeteria. You remembered seeing the things chasing them: other students, all of them red-eyed and feral. They screeched and growled hysterically, as if possessed by demons. But, that’s childish; this was something worse. You’d grabbed your bag once you saw an infected student tackle a girl by the wall and instantly bite into her throat. Soomin, the athlete, managed to get to a back door before either you or Hyejin. Some friends. It truly became every man for himself. Hyejin had screamed in absolute terror when one zombie, a large boy, blundered after her. You remember being a few steps ahead of her by then. You’d reached for the kitchen doors when a hand yanked your head back.
Hyejin used you as a means of escape. You’d slipped and tripped over the floors as the sprinkles above went off, causing it to rain inside the cafeteria. The large zombie grabbed hold of you, but you’d managed to fight him off. Another zombie, a girl with short hair, launched at you. That’s how your arm was bitten. But, you hadn’t stayed under her for long, since you threw her off you. You’d gotten up a second time where you watched Hyejin running through the kitchen to the back doors. Seeing it up ahead, you knew instinctively she’d close the door on you if she reached it. You recall leaping. You never leapt before, but you leapt towards Hyejin. Your hands found her long dark hair, fisted it tightly, and dragged her from the door. She fell to the ground with a painful groan. By the back door, you saw the two zombies attack her. You sidestepped another zombie when you realized the back door was locked. Running into the main kitchen, you dodged zombies and screamed when one of them lurched for you. Due to the slippery floor and chaos of humans and zombies, you’d fallen face forward. All air knocked out of you, you scrambled up before a zombie caught you.
That’s when more of them came. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you thought of the stink of death and harsh pain of teeth breaking skin. You’d howled from the nails digging into your skin, and the number of zombies all vying for a piece of you. Kicking and screaming, you eventually caved when one of them sunk his teeth into your neck, the one that was most obvious to you. You touched it again, walking back into the school to the library, your sanctuary. You didn’t find anyone there. It appeared whatever zombies were here had left.
Empty. That is what the world became: empty. Yet, it didn’t feel like it to you. You heard the sounds of zombies groaning outside perfectly. You could smell the paper of the books underneath the foul odor of blood and corpses. Tapping a table, the sound was louder to you. Your ears became sensitive to any sound you made after. You guessed the other zombies, mindless and aimless, reacted to noise as well. Grabbing a book, you opened the window to test your theory. You saw several zombies walking around the fields outside. You launched the book out the window, watching it fall and crash onto the ground. The small slap alerted every zombie within a twenty foot radius. They clambered over to the sound, but growled their discontent when they only smelled more dead flesh. So, a unique sense of sound. You wondered what else your new existence brought you.
This heightened sense came in handy an hour or so later. You’d been setting small fires across the library, trying to see how far your sense of smell went, when you heard it. At first, you thought it might be another zombie, but your new nose said otherwise. The newcomer did not smell like rotting flesh or congealed blood. They were something in between. You took a whiff around, and the trail led towards the library entrance. You’d been thinking of testing out your strength and speed. You saw how indestructible your fellow zombies were: you’d been throwing computer parts at them from above and barely making a dent. You might have a similar strength. You knew whatever being sauntered into your hideout will be your guinea pig. You put out your small bonfire with a wet paper towel, and followed the sounds and smells with your new body.
You made to move, but the intruder stepped out from behind the bookcases. It was Gwinam, except he looked drastically different from the boy you saw this morning. Firstly, he wore a new jacket that obviously wasn't his. Secondly, a hideous, nauseating gash went through his left eye, leaving a gory mess behind. He stopped when he saw you. You stared at him. He stared at you. Neither of you said anything. It was like meeting one of the zombies; you did not have to speak to understand one another.
"You too?" He asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.
"Yeah."
"In the cafeteria?"
"Yeah. You?"
"In here."
"When?"
"A few hours ago. Cheongsan pushed me off there," he pointed to one of the high bookcases, "And I got bit." His good eye surveyed you from afar.
"And your eye?"
"He shoved a phone into it."
"A phone?"
The idea of a cell phone never occurred to you. You could've called for help, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. Who could help you? And if help was called, they would have come by now. "Yeah, the corner part," he said, acting out the gesture with a stabbing motion, "But it's whatever. I don't really feel it. I plan on killing him." He spotted the deep wounds on your neck, and said, "Those don't bother you either?"
"Not really. I thought they'd at least itch, but they haven't," you said. "I tried recording the healing process, but it's very slow. I think because we're still partly human, we can't feel the pain but our muscles and skin react to it. Look, see," you showed him your bite marks, the skin barely together but no longer leaking blood. "It stopped bleeding, but the wound hasn't healed."
"Is that what you've been doing here?" He gestured to the trash can at your feet. "Experimenting?"
"Well, yes," you said, sheepishly. "I want to see what my body is capable of now that I've reached this new level of being. My senses are certainly sharper: I can smell things from at least twenty feet; I'm able to hear things from a further distance too, since sound echoes and bounces. I've discovered I don't die. I can't die. Seeing you now, I'm assuming it's the same for you?"
"Yeah."
You caught him looking over your body again. You became self-conscious immediately. Being undead, you doubted you'd lose any weight from your previous life. Add the disgusting bites and scratches on your flabby flesh, and you're absolutely distasteful. You didn't need Gwinam staring at you like that.
"Stop it," you said, not meeting his eyes.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me. You don't see me staring at your eye, do you? I don't need reminding of how ugly I am."
"You're not ugly."
You scoffed, "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know how my body looks."
"I know too, and I like it."
"Huh?" You saw it once you met his eyes.
"Nothing about your body has ever bothered me," he said, licking his lips at you. "In fact, everything about it turns me the fuck on."
You walked backwards from him as he approached. Your heart thumped in your chest, the sound spreading to your ears and freezing your bones. A sudden heat flared up in your body, and you gulped thickly as it went all over. The glint in his eye is unmistakable, and it excites you. Never did you think this would happen. Yoon Gwinam was only meant for your dirtiest, smuttiest fantasies reserved for lonely nights at home. Yoon Gwinam was the forbidden fruit that you'd never reach; Hyejin and Soomin being the ones raising the branch with each disgusted word. Yet, as the world turned upside down, those fantasies quickly turned into reality as Gwinam moved towards you.
"You make my cock so fucking hard," he nearly growled, already unbuckling his pants. "It drives me crazy. I have to sit in class…seeing you there in that little skirt…seeing your tits almost bursting out of your shirt…I know why you wear it that way…you like showing off those big tits just for me, don't you?" The way he walked reminded you of Jisung from that morning. A lion coming upon its prey. Something about this brazen, direct Gwinam caused your mind to wander back into those fantasies. "And don't get me started on those thighs of yours,” his eyes scanned your body and stopped to your thighs, “I love looking at them, especially when you wear stockings…the way they hug your thighs so some pudges out…fuck, you know it does things to me…"
"What?" Your voice quivered slightly.
"Don't act innocent with me," he said, getting closer. His dark eyes full of frustration and lust brought back to the last scenario you imagined. Your arousal throbbed between your legs. "You act all clean cut but I know deep down you're just a whore who wants to be fucked senseless every second of the day.” He unzipped his fly, but did not pull anything out, "You made me so horny in class that I jerked off in the bathroom during lunch. I remembered you at the construction site, all breathless and horny, and I couldn't help it."
He came within inches of you. The heavy scent of blood and sweat reached your nose, and you bit your bottom lip. A sharp gasp left you when his body pressed into yours. Gwinam tugged down the front of his pants and boxers to withdraw his dick. The sight made you wet instantly. Not too long, it was certainly thick with heavy balls underneath. You knew you'd definitely feel him stretching you soon. You already imagined it tearing you apart as he ravaged your body.
"Open your shirt and let me see those tits," he demanded, eyes focused on your chest. "You were so eager to show them before. I want to see them now."
With trembling fingers you unbutton your shirt. Underneath, Gwinam saw the white undershirt you wore stretched over your large breasts. You untucked your shirt so he may see more of you, which he liked. You worried about the gashes zombies left on your stomach and chest, but Gwinam hardly noticed them. He sailed up your body past them and to your breasts. He cupped one right away, causing you to whimper from the touch. Gwinam smirked and squeezed it so you whimpered again. You never considered stimulation before this moment. You might not feel any pain, but you certainly felt the small sparks his hand alone brought. His hands warmed up as they fondled you over your bra and shirt, the temperature hardened your nipples so they poked into the fabric. The cotton fabric of your bra did nothing to hide this from Gwinam, who bent down to bite gently down on one. You made a mental note to write down ‘sexual stimulation’ as part of your human side.
He put your hand on his crotch, and instinctively you grabbed it. You liked the feel of him against your fingers. Even with his half undead existence, his body felt human as ever. You sensed the blood pumping through his cock, and could almost smell it through the thin skin. Big hands remained nearly lukewarm on your chest; their gentle squeezes were certainly stronger than your daydreams concocted. Full lips didn’t skip over the bite mark on your neck, kissing upwards and licking the dried blood. The feeling of his tongue against your skin sent chills down your body. You needed more of him. You continued lightly touching his cock, sometimes slipping lower to the ball sack underneath, which caused several deep groans.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned in your ear, still fondling your breasts. “So addicting,” he went back to kissing your neck, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
You brought him into a kiss, and you're thankful he didn't pull away. His plush lips caressed yours, carefully opening them with a small flick on your bottom lip. Blood tinged your lips, sliding from one tongue to the other, but you liked it. That undeniable hunger for flesh and blood came over you; you growled and sunk further into his kiss. You didn’t know if a half-zombie could eat another half-zombie, but you found his taste to be particularly intoxicating. You pushed yourself against him, roaming his body with your free hand to unzip his jacket There, you found his bloodied black sweater where zombies bit into his torso. You didn’t mind it. This new discovery only aroused you more. It was as if he'd opened the floodgates repressing your desires. You couldn’t stop yourself.
"Let's get rid of this," he growled between kisses.
He took the collar of your tanktop and tore it open easily. Gwinam groaned at the sight of your tight white bra, which squeezed your breasts more than you liked. He kissed fiercely along them, even giving a bite that pinched you, groping and squeezing them. You kept your hand on him, his shaft growing even harder while you jerked him. The touch made your sex clench within you, and your clit throbbed from the newest sensation. Gwinam roughly tugged down your bra, so your tits spilled over the wire supporting them. He stopped kissing you to admire the soft mounds filling his hands. You whined as he grazed his thumbs over your nipples, the two peaks hard against the rough pads.
"Fuck," he moaned, kissing one of them, "They're exactly how I imagined them to be. So big and soft. I could suck these all day." He took it in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it and sucking hard. He did this to each one since you squirmed at the mixture of pain and pleasure. "You can't imagine," he grunted, nipping at your tits, "How many times I felt like ripping your shirt open to play with them…How many times I thought of taking you…fucking you…raping you…"
"Gwinam…" you whimpered at his words, the filth causing you to stroke him faster. Droplets of precum stuck to your hand and slickened your motions. This only amplified your arousal.
"Like today with Jisung," he flicked his tongue over the very middle, which sent shocks of pleasure down your body. "I saw you standing there watching me hit him. I saw how you panted and bit your lower lip. You were touching yourself, and I wanted more than anything to fuck you. I wanted to chase you down, rip off your panties and have my way with you…whether you wanted it or not. I don’t care anymore.” He sucked particularly hard on one nipple, then came back up to you, “I’m the boss here now. I can have whatever and whoever I want, especially you.” He cupped your chin for a hard kiss, “I should’ve fucked you there. I would’ve given you the fucking little teases like you deserve.”
"What stopped you?" You asked him breathlessly, sliding one hand over his shoulder to feel more of him. You started pumping him faster. "Hm? What stopped big bad Gwinam from fucking the shit out of me right outside our school? You could've tossed me on the floor, fucking me into the dirt or into the bushes with your hand over my mouth-"
He cut you off by grabbing your throat. The slender digits squeezed both sides of your neck, cutting off air but not hurting you. The pain came from the harsh slap that went across your cheek. When you cried out, he did it again to the opposite cheek. He stared at you for a moment, surveying the need written on your face. Your clit throbbed for his attention, hoping your grinding hips might clue him into that. He then slapped you again, then kissed you roughly.
"You filthy slut," he grunted against your lips. "You like that, huh?” he smacked you again, “You like being hit?”
The truth was: yes, you did. The stinging pain mingled with the desire burning inside you. Being in his strong grasp, pinned by his long body, you knew you could easily escape him. This elevated, evolved being you’ve become came with a strength you’d never known before. It made you invincible. Breaking away from him wouldn’t be a problem, yet you don’t push or thrash in his clutches. You instead spread your thighs and begin pumping him once more. From his heavy breathing, you knew you’d gotten the effect you wanted.
“Let me see for myself then.” He stuck his hand under your skirt and roughly pushed your panties aside. You gasped from the sudden invasion of his fingers on your sex. Boys touched you there before, but not like how Gwinam did. Three fingers cupped your dampening center to rub carefully up and down; he didn’t care if you let him or not, your pussy was his now. “Oh, you do enjoy this kind of thing,” he sneered, releasing your throat and grabbing at your hair instead. A quick tug and a forceful pull brought you to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to show you what I would’ve done if I’d caught you. Open.”
He prodded his tip to your lips, which opened right away. The taste of salty precum slid over your tongue and savored the sticky substance. A huge part of your fantasies finally came true. Gwinam kept his hold on your hair while he guided you over his hips. The girth of his filled your mouth completely, and his head hit your throat once or twice. It’s exactly how you imagined. You sucked the hard muscle firmly, a move that made Gwinam groan. You wanted to please him; you wanted his approval and satisfaction. It became harder to breathe once he forced you right up to his base. You gripped your knees tightly as pain started burning your throat and chest. Inhaling through your nose, you tried your best to breathe as Gwinam’s cock nearly suffocated you. You loved it. Something about his dick blocking your airway, causing you to gag and choke on it excited you. Your eyes teared up whenever he held you to him for too long, only moving his tip from your throat in short strokes. Yet, you did not object or force him away. You hummed in your throat as he moved in and out. When he mumbled about enjoying it, you kept on going. Streams of his precum and your saliva started dripping from your mouth, leaking through the corners. You pointedly rocked backward and forward so your tits jiggled for him, and you saw him eye them right away. When he pulled away, streams of it came out and you gasped for air.
“Look at you,” he groaned, tapping his wet cock on your lips and cheeks. “You love choking on dick,” he sneered, pushing his tip into your mouth once more. He kept you still with one hand under your chin and the other on the back of your head. More tears spilled down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. You started playing with your nipples, and moaned around his shaft. “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he moaned, “Like a silk toy. Because that’s all you are…A mindless, stupid fuck toy for me to use whenever I want.”
Your muffled moans made him laugh. “And, to think, what I’ve become gives me so much more stamina than before,” he continued, shoving himself fully inside. “I can do all the dirty things I’ve wanted to do with you, and never get tired,” he withdrew himself to let you breathe, “And you know what that means, right?” As you tried swallowing the thickness in your mouth, he said, “It means you’re going to learn what happens to sluts who think they can flash their tits and ass at me. You thought you could flaunt those thighs and those tits and that ass and I’d do nothing about it? Hm?” He plunged his cock right back into your mouth, laughing as you cried. “And there’s nobody around to stop me; nobody to laugh at me about it. It’s only you and me, and you make me horny nearly every second of the day.” He thrusted rapidly, drowning out your cries with his moans. “That means you might as well not wear anything at all.”
He pulled out a final time, and watched you sputter and gasp for air. You massaged your throat, which felt hoarse and ached. Gwinam tugged your head back, and rested his balls right on your mouth. You knew exactly what to do. You took one in your mouth for a tender suck, licking your tongue over the curves and skin. Gwinam stroked himself slowly as you tongued his balls; he occasionally grinded into your face so you’d swallow the whole thing. Little moans vibrated over the sensitive skin, and Gwinam gritted his teeth. You grabbed his thighs for some stability, a thing he did not deny you, and buried your face further into his crotch. Gwinam pulled his balls away and had you lick his shaft up and down while you fondled them instead. Your pussy became so wet, you felt your juices sliding between your thighs. You loved how he used you. You loved giving yourself over to him entirely, and being the sex doll he wanted. Gwinam is the only boy you ever considered yourself fucking this way; you knew he had the ferocity, the depravity, the perversion to do it how you’d wanted. Other boys you’d managed to hook up with always showed hesitancy. Not Gwinam. You’ll be his whore and nothing else.
That was what you wanted.
Long, drawn out moans and panting preceded the thick, hot semen suddenly filling your mouth. You eagerly and greedily swallowed the substance going down your throat. It tasted delicious. Whether it was being undead or because it was Gwinam, you swallowed his whole load. Gwinam’s orgasm made him push harder and faster, making your neck and jaw burn from the pain. He didn’t stop until each drop left his tip and into your mouth. You swallowed whatever he left, even opening your mouth to let him squeeze it onto your tongue.
“You’re the perfect cum dump,” he breathed, running his tip over your lips so you’d lick off the droplets remaining. When he spotted worry in your eyes, he laughed, “Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from. Stand up,” he ordered, lifting you with little effort, and turning you around.
Excitement brought out your smile as he forced you to bend over. Your mind whirled from the thoughts going through your head. Spreading your legs, you arched your back slightly for him to see underneath. He lifted up your skirt to show your panties, and the cold air touched over your sex. No doubt he saw the wet spot pooled right in the center, since he then cupped it in his hand. Long fingers rolled up and down each inch of your sex, and stopped right at your clit. Your cotton panties, white and cheap, must be almost see through with how wet you’d made them.
“Your pussy is so fucking wet,” he moaned, one finger finding your clit and teasing it gently. “I thought about it so many times. Even today, when I jerked off during lunch, I thought of your sweet, tight cunt.”
“And I thought of your dick in it,” you admitted, whining when you felt his finger push delicately against your panties. “I want it so bad. I can’t think about anything else when I’m…I’m around you, oh fuck…”
His fingers teasing your clit only caused more wetness to develop. Gwinam then took both sides of your panties and threaded them between your buttocks and folds. A small bit covered your clit yet exposed it to him at the same time. While one hand spanked your ass cheeks, the other used the tip of his finger to pass over the sensitive nub. Streams of mewls, cries, and whimpers left your lips. Every little touch to it tightened the ball building inside your loins. He knew exactly what to do, and how to make you whine like a bitch in heat. Gwinam’s constant torture had you clawing the table and wriggling around in front of him. You thought you might cum from just the teasing alone.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “I could feel that pussy fluttering for me already.” He moved his finger side to side and threw down more sharp spanks to your ass. “I bet you’re dying to have me in there, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you sobbed, “Yes, yes, please.”
“Please, what, slut?”
“Please fuck me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.
“Ummm, no.”
Using both hands, Gwinam did not pull off your panties. He did not slowly peel them off and slide them to your ankles. He took the seam keeping front and back together and tore it apart. The sound of shredding fabric reached your ears. He did not remove the waistband. He only ripped it enough to expose your ass and pussy to him, leaving a long tear that went from back to front. Gwinam left your side and crouched down behind you. You felt him dangerously close to your center; you shuddered when something hot and slippery slide over your clit. Gwinam pulled the lips apart and focused his tongue there. You cried out feeling the tip circle it repeatedly; you grabbed at the table whenever he dipped beneath or on top of it slowly. The obscene lapping and slurping from below added to your uncontrollable moans. When he turned you around, your thighs immediately locked around him and with your own strength, you forced his mouth to take your clit. Gwinam gazed up in amusement, eagerly sucking and licking the cunt right in his face. He didn’t stop you from grinding over his mouth and nose; it’s not as if he’d suffocate. That was a perk of being partly dead, you guessed.
“I’ve wanted this for s-s-so long,” you said, gasping when his tongue entered your clenching and unclenching walls. “Oh god, just like that,” you started fucking his face in return, “Your tongue feels so fucking good! Ah!” his sudden grasp of your thighs with a hard smack let out a sudden squeak from you. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for such a long time. My pussy gets wet just looking at you. I thought…I thought if I teased you, you’d give in and take me. I would’ve let you fuck me however you wanted, as long as I got your cock inside me.” You gripped his hair, soft and silky in your hand, and cried out from the pleasure he brought. “I saw you beat up Jisung, and I couldn’t help…couldn’t help touching myself to it. You being so big and long and strong-”
Gwinam interrupted you by rolling you backwards so your body curled into a c-shape. He pinned your knees to your chest as he wagged his tongue over your pussy. That’s when you came. In a blinding, gut-tensing, muscle-contracting orgasm, you came right on his face. Gwinam only growled his delight at your cum in his mouth. You bucked your hips around, the table underneath you moving slightly, and pushed into his face more. He sucked up all the juices until your clitoris turned sensitive from your climax; it didn’t stop him. Gwinam kissed down to your ass hole where his tongue moved teasingly before coming back up. You're normally concerned with him going from one hole to the other, but not anymore. You’re dead. What infections could you get from it?
“Looks like,” he said, kissing up the backs of your thighs, “We’re both going to get what we want then.”
With total ease, he pulled you to the edge of the table and onto his cock. Keeping your thighs on your stomach, Gwinam charged into you as he liked: hard and rough. The stings of pain did nothing to you. It only made you want to cum again.
“Oh my god,” he growled, squeezing your thighs tightly. “You really must be a whore to take my dick so well. You’re the perfect fuck hole; the perfect cum dump…and you’re all mine.”
“Yes, yes, I am.”
He grabbed your throat, hovering over you and making you face him as you moaned his name. Your lips parted from your constant moans, Gwinam spat into your mouth. He slapped you when you didn’t swallow it immediately. He did it a second time, and you bent to his whims. Then, he gave you another sloppy kiss. You loved the dirtiness of it all; you craved more and more of it. You’d dreamt of this moment for months; you’d desired, lusted, and fantasized about it. When Gwinam grabbed your wrists to keep you on the table, hungrily kissing you, you almost came again. His shirt brushed lightly on your clit which made you weak and shuddering. Biting down on your neck, you winced from the pain, but you knew it wouldn’t last.
“Push back on me,” he said, kissing down to your nipples where he sucked harshly. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this dick, slut.”
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kept Gwinam in place as you pushed your hips into his own. His thick cock stretched you pleasantly, bringing you nothing but pleasure as you drove him deep inside. Gwinam stuck out his tongue to let your nipple brush over the flat part, flicking it once or twice or sucking it for you. You purposefully made them bounce in his face which made him growl and grunt. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your tits. His tongue teasing your nipples and his dick hitting that spot inside your pussy brought you closer to another orgasm.
“Gwinam, Gwinam, I’m going to cum,” you wept, the pleasure overwhelming your body. “Oh fuck, you’re going to make me cum again.”
“Good. Do it,” he gripped you by the chin, “Cum on my dick. Do it. Now.”
The second wave made you scream. You worried undead classmates might hear you, but they must’ve been somewhere else. Not that it mattered. They didn’t touch you. Only Gwinam touched you, and he rode out your orgasm in a few thrusts. Still shivering and whimpering, Gwinam ignored your weakened state and tossed you onto the library floor. On your front, air punched out of you for a second before he was on top of you. Without warning, his fingers entered your ass, and his cock shoved into your pussy. You arched your back for him, nearly dizzy from your orgasms and his relentless abuse of your body. And then he fucked you. He fucked you exactly how you’d always wanted. The depravity of the scene made your head swim in the haze of it all. With his free hand, Gwinam gripped your throat so your head lifted from the floor. The slight pressure cut your airway, but not enough that you’d suffocate completely.
“I’m going to cum in all your holes,” he huffed, his fingers knuckle deep in your ass while his dick filled you. “You’re going to be limping out of this library with cum dripping from you. I only wish everyone was alive…then they can see what a fucking…fucking…fucking whore YN is!”
More cum squirted into your pussy, and you couldn’t be bothered to protest. You accepted every drop. “Please cum in me,” you cried, fists underneath you and humping his cock, “Please. I want you to fill each one, please.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be more than filled,” he grunted, going faster and harder like before.
In a few more strokes, he finished his second orgasm. You took a moment to notice that he did not need a small refractory period. A surprise perk to being dead, you supposed. Not even taking a moment to breathe, Gwinam removed his fingers from your ass and laid back on the floor. You knew immediately what he wanted. You turned around to stuff his coated cock in your mouth, slobbering over it to make it wet as possible. Gwinam groaned, hands going through his hair as pleasure came over him again. A part of you wanted to stay there, cleaning his cock of your combined juices until he came again, but you knew what your lover really wanted. When his cock was prepared, you turned your back to him and sunk down on it…with your ass. This new tightness had Gwinam cursing and moaning your name. You leaned forward, broken panties and skirt over your hips so he’d have a perfect view of your ass, and bounced as much as you could.
Being undead left you stronger and faster. Before, you could never properly ride a guy. Your body felt too heavy and you worried you’d hurt them somehow. Not Gwinam. He handled you with ease, and you had no trouble riding him. You wanted him to cum again. You enjoyed his deep, throaty groans and the names he called you. He dominated you and you couldn’t help but submit. He went back to smacking and grabbing your ass while you touched your soaked, hard clit again. If anyone came upon you two, it’d certainly be a feast for the eyes. The feeling of him fully driving into you, stretching and filling you, drove you wild. You did whatever you could to milk more cum from him.
“Stay still,” he ordered, and you stopped at once. Luckily, it was for him to continue the pace on his own. “Your ass is as good as your pussy, fuck,” he panted, grabbing your hair to pull you backwards, “I could fuck this forever.”
“I wish you would,” you replied, meeting his hips nevertheless so loud smacking sounds filled the space. “I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”
“Oh my god,” he grunted, “Say that again. Say it.”
“I want to be a good toy and make you cum.”
“Then make me cum, slut. Come on,” he smacked your ass hard, “Make me cum with that fat, round…oh fuck, yes, yes, like that-”
The sheer motion of him cumming in your ass had you joining him. You kept going, not feeling exhausted at all. In fact, it heightened every sense. Everything became clearer, and the hunger nestled inside you had you slamming down on him. Once you drained him of cum, Gwinam still did not stop. He seemed incapable of it, and you did not complain. Rolling you onto your side, hands on your breasts, he used one leg to spread your thighs and sink back into your pussy. He let you continue your third orgasm on your own, rubbing your clit and pinching your nipples. You screamed once more as the climax truly hit you this time. Gwinam smacked your clit a few times during it, the light stings having you saying his name. He put you into a scissor position, the new angle driving home and leaving you senseless beneath him. Squelching sounds told you that his cum mixed with yours, and leaked out of your sex. You almost felt it pooling underneath him in every thrust. The new pace and position had you screaming his name a fourth time, and his own soon followed.
You did this for a while. It felt as if all those months of repressed feelings and sexual frustration exploded into this unrelenting, insatiable bomb. You couldn’t stop. You both bit, clawed, slapped, spat and growled throughout the day. Yes, the day. It was a thing you didn’t think possible until you’d turned into this half-human, half-zombie lifeform. Gwinam took you on every possible surface: the tables, chairs, against bookshelves and cabinets. It continued even against the glass doors where the bloody, snarling, stumbling and shuffling zombies went right by. The most exciting was when he fucked you right in the hallway, having you on all fours as he grunted about people watching you both. Pure bliss. That’s all it was.
Fantasies do come true.
***
A/N: wow, this one is wild! lol it's one of my longer pieces, but I hope you still enjoyed this. It's my first Gwinam fic, and I'm really proud of it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed it <3
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